Internment
by Riza Winters
Summary: Is it prison, or hell? Actually, the inmates call it Purgatory, and Grimmjow is their King. He rescues Ichigo from the clutches of the other hollows interred in the inter-dimensional prison world, only to make the teen his own personal punching bag. In a world with no spiritual pressure and no way out-Ichigo has little choice but to do what Grimmjow says if he wants to survive.
1. Chapter 1

"Welcome to Purgatory, kid."

Ichigo blinked to see past the blood in his eyes to the figures closing in around him.

"We'll give you the full welcome." A fist had him around the neck. He gasped out, an open wound down his front spilt more blood onto the dirt crusted cement beneath him.

"Me first," someone shouted. Light burst in one eye before it went black. Ichigo fell back against the ground. Everyone cheered. Someone hauled him up again. He felt his jaw crack this time before he went down. He raised hia hands, tried to push back the men who grabbed at him but it was no good. He couldn't see anything, he could hardly hear for the ringing in his ears. They pulled him up and sent him back with one cruel punch after another, cackling every time.

His prison sentence would soon be a death sentence.

"Hey!"

Everyone froze, including the person restraining Ichigo around the throat. He was held in the strangle hold a few seconds longer before he was released and he felt the bodies move back around him. He couldn't clear his eyes enough to see. All he could do was lay there while the newcomer approached, and he tasted the copper at the back of his throat, smelt his own sweat and blood that drenched his body, his hair. His body burned from so many wounds and these blows on top of everything were pushing him into the dark. But he held on, just long enough to hear the name of his saviour.

"Nobody touches him, you hear? And spread the word, Kurosaki belongs to Grimmjow Jaggerjaques."

* * *

It took Ichigo days to recover from the wounds he'd arrived with and those he'd earned in his first moments of prison life. He wasn't really aware of what was going on around him. He just woke with blurry, swollen eyes on a cot that smelt of urine and blood and he didn't move.

He wasn't sure he'd ever move again.

No one bothered him. He heard them, moving past the entrance to the cell—he hadn't actually rolled over to see but he was sure he must be in one of the many caged rooms he'd glimpsed on his was in here. There was noise all the time—all through the night and day. The lights fluctuated constantly, sometimes dousing him in long droughts of darkness—unless that was just his waning consciousness. The only thing he was aware of, was the other person in the room. He wasn't always there, but especially in the dark he would feel his presence, never addressing him or offering him help, just there in the room with him.

It was only on the third day that something wet and cold splashed on him and he sat up sharply, wincing in pain but startled back into reality.

"You still alive?" Ichigo didn't answer. He grabbed the wall and rubbed his eyes, trying to see. He felt the swelling and cuts that still covered his face. His hand shook when he dropped it, rattling the foot of chain that bound his wrists. Eventually, though, he turned enough to see who spoke.

Grimmjow dropped what was left of the canteen of water in his lap. Ichigo stared up at him, not finding his voice.

"Hey!" He reacted to the harsh slap by drawing one handing up to his already battered face. Because of the chain his other hand was tugged up too. He looked down at the shackles and then back to the man who'd struck him.

"I asked you a fucking question. Are you still with it or did they hit you one too many times on the head?"

Ichigo swallowed, throat raw and sore. He looked back to the canteen. Grimmjow allowed him the time to take a drink before asking him again.

"Kurosaki!"

"Yes." His voice was only a rasp. "I'm still here."

Grimmjow didn't show any pleasure at the fact, but snatched back the canteen and shoved Ichigo back down on the mattress with one hand. Ichigo coughed out harshly and realized how weak he must be if Grimmjow's shove felt that strong. Grimmjow watched his confusions and a dark smile grew on his face.

"Oh, they didn't tell you, when they threw you down here?"

"Tell me what?" Ichigo croaked.

"The moment you pass through the prison gates you lose your piritual pressure."

"What?" Ichigo sat back up painfully, noting his robes were in fact gone, replaced by a simple white shirt and pants like the ones Grimmjow wore.

"I'm not repeating myself. Just know this: I'm the only reason you're still breathing, and without your spiritual pressure you're just a kid in a den of wolves." Grimmjow moved back over to him and shoved him down flat again, leaning in close with his fist knotted in Ichigo's collar. "Do not leave this room. In fact, don't leave this bed until your wounds close over. There are no fancy healers here to put you back together if you start bleeding again. Got it?"

When he got no response he shook the teen.

"I said, got it?!"

"Yes, back off."

"Don't back talk me, asshole." Grimmjow grabbed him around the upper arm where a wound sent chills of pain through him. "You're only breathing 'cause I say so. So you shut up and do what I tell you."

For a moment, because of his wounds and his spinning head, Ichigo considered laying flat and listening, but that part of him that made him the well known ass-kicking orange haired teenager, couldn't stay buried, so he did his best to shove Grimmjow back.

"Screw you."

Grimmjow scowled. Then he drew back his fist.

Ichigo saw black.

* * *

The next few days were very unpleasant. When Ichigo woke from the brutal punch Grimmjow had served him, he found that the espada had secured his shackles around one of the bed legs with a second chain. Had he been in better shape, Ichigo thought he could have found a way out of the mess of iron links, but as he was still recovering from one of the worst battles of his life and the ensuing beating he'd taken in here, he just lay on the bed and tried to recover.

The longer he lay there, the more he felt he was the only real prisoner in this prison. People—or perhaps more accurately creatures—passed by their cell door all the time, most of them pointedly stopping to stare in on him. It was uncomfortable to say the least. Grimmjow would bark at them to move along or shut his homemade curtains, if he was there. When he wasn't there, he locked the cell door behind him—Ichigo also didn't know of many prisons where the prisoners got to have their own set of keys.

It was apparent though, that this was not an ordinary prison. Many prisoners appeared to be hollows ranging from bestial to humanoid adhuchas. He saw no sign of prison guards anywhere. And where this prison was exactly was still a mystery to him. He hoped to get his answers out of Grimmjow, but the other seemed only interested in interrogating him.

"So Bach cut up your soul reaper buddies, then what?" Grimmjow pressed from where he towered over Ichigo. He kept a foot on the the chain linked through his shackles so Ichigo couldn't sit up straight or move his hands.

Ichigo bristled at the callous way he referred to his friends who were probably all dead now.

"I went for him. Hashwald intervened."

At this, Grimmjow let out a bark of laughter.

"What?" Ichigo shot up at him.

"You didn't even get to the King? You're pathetic."

"Screw you, how the hell did you get in here then?"

At this, Grimmjow stooped and clamped a hand around his throat. "I'm the one asking questions."

Ichigo couldn't retort for the pressure on his throat. Grimmjow held the threat a little longer and then backed off completely.

"So the Reapers fell six days ago when you showed up in Purgatory..." He spoke to himself while Ichigo coughed and wheezed. "So the Vandenreich win."

But Ichigo shook his head.

"Well, who else is left then? Didn't you say your girlfriend was in a coma or something?"

Yes, he had. Orihime had not woken since suffering a brutal blow to the head in a surprise attack three months earlier.

"She was the only one left with any decent power," Grimmjow concluded.

"The soul king."

"What?" Grimmjow thought about this. "What can he do?"

Ichigo shrugged. Grimmjow made a frustrated noise, then headed for the door.

"Where are you going?"

Grimmjow looked up at him through the bars as he secured them. "To ask a soul reaper who knows something useful."

* * *

So there were soul reapers here too. Ichigo stood at the bars to the cell, looking out on the sea of identical cages that stretched around one massive central space. The main part of the prison—from what Ichigo could figure out—was square. That's where they were, in one of the corner cells on floor three of probably over a hundred stories of stacked cells. Beyond the cell was the walkway with only a broken wrought iron rail between you and the edge. At this height, he'd survive a fall to the pit bottom, but from the top you'd be nothing but liquid after you hit.

Ichigo could only see part of the pit floor without leaving the cell—which he could not do as he was locked in it. But from what he could see it had originally been designed to be a communal space. Broken chairs and tables were scattered all over the concrete. So much blood had built up over the floor that it was more rusty orange than grey now. That's what you got when you threw hollows and soul reapers together, he thought. The common area had become a ring, and at least once a day he could hear chanting below and people yelling bets on fights. He was pretty sure no one ever survived a fight.

_Purgatory._ He'd been lucky to get that much information out of Grimmjow. He must have been bored because he explained to Ichigo where their prison was located.

It was made by soul reapers. He supposed Grimmjow could be lying, but when Ichigo remembered back to his first foray into Soul Society he recalled massive pits where hollows were once thrown. They were no longer in use. Grimmjow informed him, it was because they had created this place—a pocket dimension, accessed through a special portal, and only containing this small prison world. There was no outdoors. You were simply sent through the portal to land on the main floor and fend for yourself from there. If soul society then needed information or experiments, they had option. But most of all, the moment you stepped through, the world started gathering your spirit energy, leaving you no more than human and giving the soul reapers a wealth of extra spirit energy—now being used by the Vandenreich.

Grimmjow wasn't sure if it had first been a prison for traitor soul reapers or for advanced hollows but in either case it was now a home to both. Some had been here for years, decades, even centuries. But many had just arrived, and they had not been sent by the Soul Reapers. They'd been cast here by the Vandenreich. The fact that the quincies had not killed them meant they might be made use of later, but the fact that they also never checked up on them meant they probably didn't have a vested interested in any of the souls here—if you died, you died and they wouldn't care.

That's what confused Ichigo. He thought they cared about him. He thought they wanted him for one dark purpose or another. And if that was not the case, then he was certain they would have killed him.

Ichigo backed away from the bars and sat back on his cot. Grimmjow had let him up so he could try to regain some strength by walking a bit. His hands, however, remained shackled to one another.

The espada had been busy and so had not paid him too much attention. He seemed very intent on finding out just what the Vandenreich were up to and the current status of the war, so he had started seeking out all the soul reapers still breathing in the prison and interrogating them about the Zero squad, trying to figure out who they were and if they might still have a part to play.

Ichigo was eager to get out of the cell and find these soul reapers as well, but part him also guessed they had been here for a long while, and if that was the case, they were traitors and likely wouldn't make good allies.

Grimmjow seemed to be his only option right now, especially in his current state. He still couldn't figure out the other's motivations and he couldn't say it was pleasant being his prisoner.

"Where are my clothes?" he asked when he guessed Grimmjow was in a reciprocating mood. He must have been wrong because he got a snarl of an answer.

"I already told you."

Ichigo thought this over, fairly certain he hadn't, then it dawned on him.

"Oh, because I don't have spiritual pressure."

"Obviously. That's why you were naked when you arrived here."

"What?"

At this, Grimmjow spun in his chair where he'd been leaned back, feet on the desk that was in the room, reading something in a language Ichigo didn't understand. He had a wicked grin on his face.

"You don't remember? That's how everyone arrives in Purgatory, everything you have with you, including your spiritual pressure _and _your clothing—is taken away. The shock alone kills some, and then most of the rest get eaten by those vultures down there."

"You don't mean literally eaten do you?"

"Of course I do—and some like to play with their food too—though it's not like you can get any power from other souls in this place. So there's really no point."

"But you survived coming through—did you have allies here to help you?"

At this, Grimmjow turned back to his desk. "Didn't need 'em."

"Oh." Ichigo held the silence for a moment, then, "But where did these clothes come from?"

Grimmjow let out a sigh of frustration at being bothered, but he responded. "The laundry room."

The unanswered question hung in the air. Grimmjow made another noise and turned back.

"Look, here's how it works. The weaklings who can't survive without protection work all the shit jobs in this place and keeps it from becoming a literal shit hole. They clean the clothes, they stir up the gruel, and get rid of bodies any other housekeeping that's needed. In return, they aren't killed. Maybe when you're better you can join 'em."

"It's not up to you what I do."

"Yes it is."

"Grimmjow what the Hell are you doing with me anyway? Why did you save me only to keep me locked up?"

"I think I'm regretting it." He turned dangerously. "Enough talk, shut up and let me read."

"No, this is ridiculous. I want answers and-"

Grimmjow rose, Ichigo stood to meet him, but without his spiritual pressure he just wasn't a match for Grimmjow's strength. Even if he'd grown since the last time they'd met, Ichigo was just eighteen, hadn't had the chance to fill out and build up the thick muscles that defined Grimmjow's physique. So he hit the wall hard, Grimmjow's hand in his hair and breath on his neck.

"You don't get it. This place is my domain now. There's no Aizen, no anyone, and I took control the moment I arrived. I don't put up with shit from anyone, least of all you."

"Then why keep me in here? If I'm so annoying let me go."

"You dumb or something? You think they wouldn't kill you the moment I cut you lose? You think they wouldn't do terrible things to you?"

"I can stand up for myself."

Grimmjow's grip tightened in the teen's hair but then he suddenly relaxed. "You know what, never mind. Go."

He steered him by the back of the neck toward the door and shoved him out. Ichigo stumbled to a halt by the railing. He was suddenly struck by the cold—he hadn't realized how much the cell walls had cut down on the damp draft that now washed over him. His bare feet squished in a viscous liquid. He looked down and regretted it.

"Well." Grimmjow leaned in the doorway, making it clear there was no going back inside. Ichigo straightened, not daring to show hesitation or let the opportunity to escape get by him. He moved at a quick pace down the stairs that were right next to the corner.

He should have gone up instead.

He remembered at once that the central square was were the 'vultures' lurked for easy prey. It was also where the fights and betting took place. No doubt this had something to do with Grimmjow's location three stories up on the corner—close to the action, but just up enough that he didn't catch the stench of this place. Ichigo wrinkled his nose as he walked around the perimeter of the second floor. He didn't want Grimmjow to see him go up again so he intended to find another stair case where he could ascend unseen.

He didn't make it that far.

"You're the newbie right?"

Ichigo came to a dead halt when the large man sauntered out of his cell. Ichigo spotted his hollow mask at once, a bridge of bone between his eyes and turning into a full helm above his head. A hollow hole cut through his chest.

"What difference is it to you?"

"Shut up and get in here." Ichigo gave pause, looking between the man and his cell.

"Um...no."

"It wasn't a choice." The man made a grab for him. Ichigo stepped back lightly and the hollow missed. He ducked another blow and skirted by him even in the narrow space. He thought he'd been quick enough but his shoulder was caught and he fell hard against the bar. It groaned, old and long abused the metal bent out as if to help tip him over the edge but the back of his shirt was caught and he landed back on the mucky walkway. A thick, filthy foot landed on his shackles and despite his yank his hands were caught.

"Did Jaggerjaques cut you loose?"

"What difference does it make?"

He couldn't raise his hands to block the punch and so he took it hard to the side of his face. Then his hair was snagged and his head forced back.

"DID HE?"

"Yes!"

A smile. Ichigo regretted answering.

"Good." His head hit the steel grating beneath him. He felt the burning pain in his face, the swelling of his lip, but his head swam and the pain was a distant throb. He was dragged back up by the back of his neck and he saw that he was being steered into the hollow's cell.

He fought. Maybe it was adrenaline—he couldn't be sure—but some last reserve burst forth and he caught the bars, manoeuvred free and ran with all he had. Unfortunately, it was more than just this hollow interested in him and his path seemed to narrow to only one destination: over the bars and headlong into the barren arena at their feet. He soared over the bar when he realized it was his only choice and crashed hard into the muddied concrete where he'd first made his entrance. He only realized it was probably the worst place for him to be when he was already sailing over the bar.

He did his best to tuck and roll but one foot still hit at an awkward angle and then he fell hard on his fast, his hands scraping over the dirt and driving into his sternum, knocking the wind out of him. It was while he was gagging and gasping and trying to sit up again that he saw the swarm of feet headed his way and knew he'd just thrown himself into the lion's den.

"Shit."

"He's mine!" The bellow came from above. His initial attacker jumped down from the ledge but no one backed off. Ichigo was still recovering from the fall and it took little movement to tell him his ankle was busted.

"So he's up for grabs again? The Sixth ain't interested in him?"

"Must have had his fun already," someone jibed.

"No good meat on him anyway," another sighed.

"Meat ain't what Jaggerjaques was after—and neither am I." Another shoved forward but was met with the first hollow to attack Ichigo. Ichigo looked up at the two figures who towered over him. They stared one another down, as did many others in the swarm of people, and it was seconds before the building tension erupted into violence.

In the crowd, he spotted one or two faces without bone, bodies without hollow holes. He looked to them with hope, only to find them staring back at him with cold hard eyes of dark desire. He looked away and back to the pair over him just in time to see the first strike.

Blood splattered down on him. The first hollow had hit was such force the other's whole face was a mess of blood and loose teeth. Ichigo recoiled from the spray a second punch caused the man to fall back in a dead heap.

The two man fight became a brawl and Ichigo was in the middle of it.

He got knocked around and grabbed. His clothes tore. His hair was pulled. He took a glancing blow to the side of the head and fell flat, everything spinning. Someone grabbed his ankle and dragged him one way, someone else grabbed his chains and tugged in the opposite direction. He was sure he would be ripped in half when someone else intervened and a large hand pulled him by the neck. He gasped out in pain from the pressure on his ankle but his feet soon left the floor.

"I said he was mine." It was his original attacker. It was clear he'd come out on top and the others were considering backing down. Ichigo struggled in the grip. The giant looked at him before dropping him and stamping down on his wounded ankle.

"Gha!"

"Stop squirming."

"Fuck you! I'm not a piece of fucking property!" He shouted even from his helpless position on the filthy prison floor. He only noticed now that many spectators had gathered on the stories above—interested to see how it played out but not enough to participate themselves. The sight angered him more and made his defiance all the more powerful—but not powerfull enough.

"Shut up." The fat hand stole his vision for several long seconds. He'd been slapped—a punch undoubtedly would have killed him—but the hand was so big it was like getting a steak to the face. His ear rang and more blood ran out from the cuts he'd already sustained on his face. He dragged himself back up into a sitting position even though the room spun. "You're nothing more than meat and you're mine."

"No."

This time the blow came to his gut. Again, the hollow held back, or he'd be dead, but as it was he spewed vomit and this time he did not get up again. He convulsed again, blood coming up with his stomach acid. His shackled hands wrapped around his stomach and tears stung at his eyes. He was beaten. He couldn't win when he was like this, drained of his power, out-sized by his opponents, still wasted from his failed attempt to stop the Vandenreich and save the world.

It hurt all the worse knowing all those eyes were on him, that they watched with cold passivity as he failed again, as he lay in his own mess of blood and vomit on the pit floor of an inter-dimensional prison.

He lay panting and fighting the tears that streamed hot from his eyes with every gag but threatened to morph into something emotional. But they didn't—he wouldn't give them that satisfaction.

Then the beast had a hand on his shoulders and was pulling him up.

"Okay, fun's over."

The hollow's movements ceased. Ichigo came to a stop, half way to his knees. He dragged his head up enough to see who it was.

"Grimmjow..."

"Shut up," the espada barked at him, but then turned his attention back to the hollow. "I said it's over."

"And I said he's mine."

Grimmjow straightened his stance. Ichigo's vision was terrible but he was pretty sure everyone above leaned closer over the edge, maybe even one or two of them gasped—at the clear words of challenge.

"You're defying me?" Grimmjow flexed his knuckles. Someone clanked a metal cup against a rail and the sound was repeated far above, then it spread like a building rainstorm, until the watchers were chanting for a fight, for the challenge to be accepted.

"Drop the kid," Grimmjow ordered.

The hollow did, but Grimmjow didn't come to Ichigo's side. They both moved toward the middle of the floor and anyone else nearby backed off. The hollow was massive, he sort of reminded Ichigo of Yammy. In here, there was no spiritual pressure, only physical strength. So despite Grimmjow's arrogance, even his skill, he really stood no chance.

Or so Ichigo thought, until the fight began.

Then he understood why Grimmjow was King of Purgatory.

It took him three strikes to kill the hollow. He was smart. He was fast and he was brutal. He snapped one kneecap with a well placed kick. He hooked his elbow around his enemy's neck as he fell, and he jerked his whole body in a sharp downward thrust as he squeezed his head tight. And the man dropped with a broken spine and eyes still wide open.

And everyone cheered.

Long live the King.

Ichigo couldn't stand to meet him as he came to claim his prize. He could hardly stay conscious when he was pulled up harshly and barely given enough support to keep him upright, causing him enormous pain in his ankle and other body parts. He was shaking head to toe from his wounds, and perhaps also from the startling revelation of just how weak he was. But Grimmjow didn't take him back. He steered him down a corridor Ichigo hadn't noticed before, right on the ring floor, and when he heard the rain of water he understood.

"Get out!" Grimmjow barked at those showering. No one protested. Ichigo fell hard to the wet floor of the shower room which was nothing more than a barely lit cement chamber with streams of water jetting out from different places on the walls and ceilings.

"Ah, Grimmjow stop!" he protested when his shirt was ripped clean off his back.

"Shut up!"

"Grimmjow don't!" He tried to kick his captor when he went for his pants but Grimmjow crippled him when he kicked back in his injured ankle. Ichigo recoiled but he was still stripped against his will. Then he was roughly shoved under one of the streams of shockingly cold water.

"Let go." He struggled, wanting to get out from the painful cold and the bruising grip of the other man. "Grimmjow..." the espada was all that was keeping him up now and he stood with his arms out straight, keeping himself out of the cold water while holding Ichigo directly in it. His jaw was set, he stared straight back in brown eyes.

"What are you doing?"

"What do you think I'm doing?" He dragged Ichigo back out and held him closer. "You realize how much shit is on that floor out there—and I mean literal shit. Plus you fucking puked on yourself."

He forced him to move back toward the entrance.

"My clothes-"

"Are disgusting."

"Grimmjow don't," he protested when he realized he was going to be dragged naked out into the prison. "Grimmjow just stop!"

"No!" Grimmjow pulled him all the harder toward the entrance. "If you don't like it, you should have shut the fuck up and did what I said." The light of the main prison struck them along with all those eyes. He caught many jeers, cheers and filthy comments as he was forced along the floor and then up the metal stairs. Grimmjow practically threw him onto his bed when they got back into the cell and came to lean over him where he lay in both physical and mental shock.

"Remember today, before you go back-talking me again. And remember what those animals want to do to you, before you ever think of disobeying me. I'm all that stands between you and them, and trust me, protecting your ass is the last thing I want to do."

"Then-"

Grimmjow raised a warning hand. "If you fucking ask me why I'm doing this one more time, I'll leave you out there _as is_ and watch them tear you apart."

Ichigo knew it was a lie, because there was no way Grimmjow had gone to these lengths to keep him safe just to turn around and let them have him. But after what just happened, he was shaken. So for all his hot headed anger, his pride and arrogance—he remained silent this time.

"Good." Grimmjow backed off from the soaked, shaking teen and tossed a blanket at him to cover his nakedness. Then he lay down on his own cot and went to bed.

Ichigo couldn't sleep.

* * *

**_I am publishing this earlier than I meant to as I like to get close to the end of a story before I start uploading it-but after seeing that Bleach will be on hiatus until the fall, I thought I would publish this as an attempt to help pass the time. Here we go with another lovey up-beat, cheerful Ichigo and Grimmjow story (cough, cough, no sarcasm at all...) Prison life presents an interesting dynamic for the duo, stay tuned to see how things play out in the dark dimension of Purgatory where Ichigo is powerless and stuck under Grimmjow's iron rule._**

**_Would love to hear your thoughts, as always,_**

**_Riza._**

**_*Woops, thanks for catching my mistake Wrecker, I have fixed it!_**


	2. Chapter 2

He woke clothed. Grimmjow would have had to remove his shackles to do that. He also would have had to see him naked but after yesterday that was hardly a concern now. He sat carefully, already sensing many of his new wounds, but the worst was by far his ankle. It was swelled to balloon like proportions and hurt to move even a little bit.

"Don't try walking on it." Grimmjow's voice startled him. It hurt to turn his head and he squinted through a swollen eye. The espada offered him nothing more as he headed out of the cell and locked it shut behind him. Ichigo lay back.

It was going to be a long recovery.

Much of his days were passed in silence. Grimmjow was often out. He came back smelling of smoke, alcohol and sometimes sporting bloody knuckles. Ichigo wasn't sure how often he had to defend his position as King but he got the impression Grimmjow spent all his time with the lowlifes who bet on the death matches in the pit. Well, he couldn't blame him, what else was there to do?

Except talk to him.

On the rare occasion, Grimmjow would get bored. Ichigo could tell when he sat in his chair at the desk and stared at the cell bars as if contemplating whether or not it was worth going out, if anything beyond these four walls could really occupy the interest of a highly trained warrior.

That's when he would talk to Ichigo.

"You'll feel better in a little while," he explained when he saw Ichigo's frustration at still being bed ridden even after several days. "The initial shock of losing your spiritual pressure affects everyone for a long time. Then you start getting used to it and you won't feel so exhausted and weak."

"So I might get stronger?"

"Not much, you're way too small, you just won't feel as cruddy."

"Great."

Grimmjow said nothing more on the subject and they lapsed into silence again. He seemed very busy for someone who did none of the work in maintaining their prison world. Meeker creatures of less refined humanoid form brought them their fresh laundry and since Ichigo was immobilized, slid him food and water between the bars. He also saw them cleaning the walkways of the massive structure. If he'd felt better, he would have pitied them, but since all his days were filled with endless silence, the pain of a very slow recovery, and the memories of friends' screams on the battlefield—he didn't have much room left for pity.

Eventually he was mobile. His ankle had only sprained. By the time it was better, the scrapes and bruises from the fight had already faded. He began exercising in the cell again, forcing himself to do push-ups and get himself out of breath with certain exercises that could be done in small spaces.

Grimmjow seemed to have no problem with it, as he never commented. Ichigo was growing very annoyed with his shackles, however, and one day when he thought he was catching Grimmjow in a better mood he asked him if they could be removed.

The other looked at the chains as if he'd forgotten them. He didn't answer and Ichigo didn't know what that meant—if he was considering or if he just wasn't acknowledging the question. For now, he let it go.

A while later, though, Grimmjow got up and looked at Ichigo. "You should shower."

"Uh.."

"Let's go."

It wasn't a choice. Ichigo didn't really feel like repeating his experience from last time but it had been a disgustingly long time since he'd properly cleaned up so he took Grimmjow up on his offer. It was only when they were at the door and Grimmjow stopped to consider the difficulty of removing clothing that he acknowledged Ichigo's earlier request.

"Just for now," he said when he reached for the key kept in his pants pocket.

"Okay." Ichigo didn't know what else to say but there was no hiding his relief when the iron fell away from his wrists and he rubbed them gently, massaging long chaffed skin. Grimmjow led them out and down toward the main arena. They got many stares—Ichigo had only been out for that one horrifying experience. He noticed many hungry eyes on him, and he also noted how Grimmjow blanked them completely. He barked out the same order as last time and the room was cleared. Then he shoved Ichigo toward one end while he went to the other.

"Five minutes."

"Okay," Ichigo just said again, shedding his clothes and hurrying under the frigid spray. There was little to do with no soap or towel so he just scrubbed as vigorously as he could with his bare hands and then redressed before Grimmjow could decided to drag him back naked again. The other washed on the other side and only came back to collect him when he too was fully clothed.

"Grimmjow."

"What?"

"How long have you been here?"

"Long enough."

"I mean-" he was silenced at the glare, then he stopped walking completely. He'd let himself grow too weak—too obedient to this man. Now he stood unshackled and out of the cell, so he faced Grimmjow with the same resolve he had the first time they met.

"Why can't you just be straight with me?"

Grimmjow glanced behind him, at the milling beings on the prison floor.

"You do not want to have this discussion, kid."

"Why the Hell not? Since I arrived you've been my friggin' prison guard and I don't know if you're protecting me or torturing me! What the Hell do you want from me?"

"Shut. The Fuck. Up." Grimmjow grabbed him around the collar.

"Why 'cause you'll hit me again? You do remember who I am right? You do know that—"

"I said shut up!" Grimmjow's strike came hard and fast. Ichigo was still getting used to life without spiritual pressure. Even if he was human, he was currently in his spiritual form, so it was very disorienting to be in this form without the strength of a soul reaper. He hit the ground hard and skidded over the filthy floor. Anyone nearby stopped to watch.

"Get up," Grimmjow ordered.

Ichigo picked himself up. Aware of the eyes on him.

"Let's go." Grimmjow motioned for him to follow. Ichigo held his ground.

"No."

"You fucking idiot." Grimmjow turned back to him.

"I'm not yours to control."

"Trouble in paradise, Jaggerjaques?" Someone called.

"Little fucker looks pretty healthy for a chew toy." Someone else commented. Grimmjow went rigid with anger but his eyes never left the teen before him.

"You did this to yourself." He barely whispered as he grabbed Ichigo around the neck. The teen wasn't completely helpless, landing a few kicks from his strained position but not enough to get Grimmjow to let go.

He slammed back into the dirt, face first, Grimmjow's knee settling in his lower back.

"Get off of me!"

"I fucking warned you." Grimmjow yanked his shirt up and Ichigo saw him reach for something in his pocket. When he saw the glint of silver he started to struggle harder. "Just in case there was any doubt," his voice rose to those around him and everyone listened. "This soul reaper belongs to me."

"AH!" Ichigo couldn't contain his scream when the metal bit into his skin. Grimmjow worked it in a curving line over the flesh of his lower back, carving deep and cruelly. Ichigo tried to hold it back but the pain got the best of him and he gasped and groaned on the floor, fighting with everything to keep the sounds from turning into sobs.

When he was done, and there was a clear six carved into bloodied skin, Grimmjow stood, leaving Ichigo's back bare and exposed to all above. "Now he won't forget where he belongs." He announced but his eyes turned upward to them, "And neither will you."

He bent down and picked up his prey by the back of his neck but stepped back toward the shower entrance.

"And if you want to live, you won't fucking disturb us."

Ichigo saw their faces and understood the looks, Grimmjow's words. He tried to struggled but he was dragged backward all the same. The pain in his back was unreal, but still it numbed in comparison to the fear he felt when he was dumped on wet tile and Grimmjow stood above him.

"You should have kept your fucking mouth shut."

"You bastard." Ichigo tried to get a hand over the wound but Grimmjow dropped on him, pinning his wrists above his head with one hand while he settled his weight on the teen's thighs, trapping him face fist on the ground. "GET OFF OF ME!"

"I never should have let you out of the cell." Grimmjow growled and then his fist connected with Ichigo's side.

He couldn't hold it back. He was already in too much pain from the six Grimmjow had carved into his flesh. He was too drained from having his powers leached from him. And he was too alone—an all consuming loneliness not just from being imprisoned here with monsters, but from knowing probably none of his friends still lived, let alone anyone out there might come to rescue him.

So he screamed as Grimmjow pounded his fists into his hip, then switched to the other side. He hollered when he was flipped onto his back, his wound striking the floor. Then Grimmjow cut off his air, fingernails biting deep where they gouged into his neck with bruising force. All the while a thundering rain of ice cold water poured down on him.

A rake of sharp fingers cut across his chest and stomach. Grimmjow sat back and surveyed him while Ichigo choked on water and blood. He caught a couple blows to the face to split his lip and bring up blood.

"Don't..." Ichigo knew what those looks meant, knew what Grimmjow's words had meant.

Grimmjow stared down on him, then leaned in close and Ichigo's whole body went stiff in anticipation of his next move. Grimmjow frowned.

"Who the Fuck do you think I am?"

Ichigo stared back at him. The espada seemed offended. For a moment, Ichigo felt confusion, then he screamed again when he was rolled to his side and Grimmjow hammered down on his thigh with one fist. He struck the same spot several times, making Ichigo cry out again and again. He wouldn't stop—not until he heard the frantic gasps he was looking for. Not until the stream of water wasn't the only source of droplets on Ichigo's face. Only then did he relent in his brutal assault, when the flesh on Ichigo's leg was purple and red and bleeding. When he couldn't for the life of him put pressure on the leg and limped heavily when Grimmjow dragged him up.

"If you say one word, I'll do it again," Grimmjow warned when they neared the entrance. Ichigo was still trying to control his erratic breaths and uncontrolled tears but Grimmjow seemed eager for the others to see. He hauled Ichigo out before their merciless eyes. He heard the jabs and jeers, the claps and hoots.

And he came to the dark understanding of what everyone thought had happened—and what Grimmjow had chosen _not_ to do to him.

He was dropped a shaking, sopping mess on his bed. Grimmjow yanked the curtain shut on them, and stood there for a long moment as if he didn't have the energy to turn back to the beaten teen. Ichigo's hand hovered over his horribly bruised thigh, his hips hardly better off. He couldn't keep the shaking from his hands or any of his other limbs.

When he finally did turn around, Grimmjow watched him for a long time.

"They think you want me for..." Ichigo swallowed and didn't finish his sentence.

"Of course they fucking do." Grimmjow seemed to make up his mind about something and moved swiftly over to the teen. Ichigo threw up his hands in defence and couldn't believe how desperate his voice shot from him.

"Don't touch me!"

Grimmjow froze—but only for a moment. Then he grabbed bare shoulders and wrestled Ichigo down face first on his bed.

"DON'T!" The teen screamed as he fought desperately.

"SHUT UP!" Grimmjow pinned him by the back of his neck and Ichigo could only hear the tear of fabric. Then he recoiled at the painful pressure at his lower back. Grimmjow pressed the torn sheet over the wound. Ichigo hissed out in pain but stilled. When he was calm, Grimmjow let go of his strangle hold on him and proceeded to wrap up the wound he'd laid in pale flesh.

"Don't move from here," he ordered when he finished. Ichigo heard the clank of chains and tried to pull his hand back but Grimmjow caught it and forced the shackle back over his wrist. He looped the chain through the top bar of the bed several times until it was short and gave Ichigo little leeway when it clamped around his other wrist. Ichigo cursed him and fought it but there was no winning. He couldn't escape his position laying face down on the bed, hands held tight to the metal rungs by his head, leaving him open and exposed.

"Like I said, you brought this on yourself," Grimmjow muttered when he sat back on his own cot. He was angry, but despite his pain and upset, Ichigo knew none of these wounds had been laid on him out of rage alone. They were calculated, meaningful—and most frightening of all—they were merciful.

Because the alternative to this beating would have been much, much worse.

* * *

Girmmjow left him like that for over a day. Ichigo actually expected worse but then he figured the espada didn't relish dealing with the mess Ichigo would eventually be forced to make. Actually, he was very surprised when Grimmjow undid his shackles completely, gave him new clothes and then took him out of the cell.

It was show, of course. Ichigo's limp and strategically placed marks implied so much more, and and he tried to ignore the nasty grins and comments shot his way. Grimmjow took them to the meal hall, where Ichigo had never been. It was on the fifth level in place of the regular bank of cells that was in that space on every other level.

Grimmjow shoved him into a seat and someone hurried to provide them with the tasteless, oatmeal-like gruel they ate every day. Grimmjow had mentioned something about there being no concerns of running out. Ichigo guessed it was some sort of Soul Reaper spell that kept them continuously supplied. Everything in the spiritual world was made of reishi, after all, so if this place gleaned their energy, then the most likely solution was that this gruel was a portion of that very power being fed back to them.

It was decidedly disgusting, but no one refused it.

They ate in silence. Ichigo kept an eye on those around him the whole time. They wore the same smirks. His eyes returned to Grimmjow. He was expressionless.

When they were done Grimmjow dragged him back. Ichigo still couldn't walk without his help. His back killed him and his thigh often clenched into a painful charlie horse. He willingly slumped back onto his bed. Grimmjow hovered before him. Ichigo looked to the chain and then pulled his hands against his stomach in silent protest.

"You get it now, don't you?" Grimmjow finally spoke.

Ichigo got some of it—that those monsters out there thought Grimmjow had done something to Ichigo the teen couldn't even voice aloud—and that Grimmjow wanted them to think that. What he didn't get, was why. If Grimmjow had no desire to do that to him, then why _was_ he keeping him alive? If he were to take revenge for their past battles, Ichigo was pretty sure he wouldn't do it this way. He sat in silence for a long moment, contemplating if he should pose the question.

"Why do you want them to think that?" he finally asked.

Grimmjow reacted in anger—he'd warned Ichigo never to ask why he was protecting him again. He shoved Ichigo down onto the mattress but then that was really it. Ichigo remained still while the espada pulled back the scraps of cloth over his wound and inspected them. Then he withdrew and sat at his desk, leaving Ichigo unchained and on his own.

And that was how things went for quite some time. Grimmjow took Ichigo out with him more and more frequently. In reality, Ichigo didn't mind—at least after the worst of the pain had receded from his back and leg. Spending day after day in that cell was driving him crazy, so when Grimmjow made him accompany him to different gambling games, even fights, or just to walk around the prison and beat up a few of the trouble makers to reassert his position, it was at least something to do to pass the time.

Grimmjow was smart—perhaps smarter than Ichigo had first given him credit for. He started to realize what the espada was doing by taking him with him. He was giving him a place—a place other than the other side of Grimmjow's room. If Grimmjow could establish his ownership over Ichigo, but also get him accustomed to the prison and familiar with some of the regular gamblers and dealers he visited throughout his day, then he wouldn't have to constantly babysit him.

Ichigo wasn't sure how he felt about all of this. It wasn't that he liked being around Grimmjow, but he wasn't sure he'd like being without him either.

After a week of such outings, Grimmjow began distancing himself, though never so far he couldn't intervene if something went wrong. Ichigo had learned all the games, some with cards, others with stones and symbols. Alcohol and something resembling tobacco were the currency. Ichigo knew the alcohol had to be some crude form of fermented gruel and didn't relish tasting the concoction, but he wasn't sure what the prisoners had found to roll up and smoke. He had no interest in either but he did start to get interested in the games—it was after all, the only intellectual stimulus he had.

So slowly, very slowly, and without being aware, he became accustomed to the prison life.

He came home one night from a successful match of stones, to a punch in the face. He swore and tried to fight back but Grimmjow shut the curtains and wrested him down on his bed. He couldn't help but fight back, but by now he knew the drill and if Ichigo ever stopped showing up with fresh bruises and a few well placed marks, the others would start to get suspicious.

Grimmjow left him panting in pain on his bed and stepped away to his own. Ichigo couldn't help but be shaken from each assault. Though he did feel stronger than when he'd first arrived, pain was so different without the presence of Zangetsu. But it was more—pain was different when it wasn't earned in the heat of a fight, when adrenaline coursed through his veins and each mark was earned in order to protect others. No, these marks were ones of abuse. Ones that hurt on a level deeper than the surface. Ichigo sat up slowly, rubbing the weeping wound at his neck. He caught blue eyes lingering on him for just a second.

Why was Grimmjow doing this?

He dwelled on the question more and more over the long days. It was while he was watching Grimmjow from his card game that it struck him. He lost the round and all his cigarettes, but he didn't care. Grimmjow was currently engaged in an arm wrestling match. His elbow was bleeding from the pressure being put on it and it looked like his whole arm might snap. His opponent was much larger than him but still Ichigo watched him win. He shook out the limb when he rose and there were cheers. Then he caught Ichigo staring at him. That night when they were back in their cell, Grimmjow seemed angry. He must have known he'd been found out.

"So," Ichigo began.

"Just spit it out," Grimmjow growled.

"You think they'll come back for me—the Vandenreich will want me again or the soul reapers will win and come to save me. You want to make sure I'm still alive for them to find, and you want to make sure you'll be near me so you can bust out too."

Grimmjow met his eyes but there was no doubt Ichigo had figured out the truth.

"Why not just tell me?" he asked.

"Because if anyone in this place gets a hint of my plan, they'll try to do the same."

"But you're the King."

"Yeah and I was a fucking idiot to ever put myself in that position. It doesn't mean shit—if they really want, they could gang up and kill me, I ain't dumb enough to think I can take 'em all on. But they don't do it, 'cause what would be the point? They'd just have to fight each other and start all over to establish a new king. And most of 'em would die in the process. So everyone goes with it 'cause there's nothing really worth fighting over—except you. They see you as a piece of meat right now, and they accept that you're mine. But if they saw you as their key out of this place, I'd be dead, and you'd be in some bastard's clutches."

"Oh," Ichigo just said, working it all out for himself. "If you'd just said that, it's not like I would turn around and tell them." Grimmjow didn't answer. It was clear he wasn't interested in showing Ichigo an ounce of trust. So the teen continued to think about his situation for the last few weeks.

"All that shit you've been doing to me...it's the only way to keep them from figuring out why you really want me close."

Grimmjow didn't answer. He just rose and stabbed a finger in the air with every word to emphasize his point. "Never. Speak. Of this. Again." He glared. "Both of our lives depend on it. Understand?"

"Yes." Ichigo nodded. They left it at that. Grimmjow went to bed fuming. Ichigo lay back unsettled, rethinking everything Grimmjow had done to him. He'd already known Grimmjow could have done worse to him instead of pretending to do worse. But now he knew the motivation for it all. It didn't absolve the espada of anything. He'd still made his first weeks painful and humiliating, but at least Ichigo understood his actions now. It was certainly more in keeping with the image of the espada of two years ago.

Then something else struck Ichigo.

Two years ago he'd left Grimmjow incapacitated in the sands of Hueco Mundo. Urahara said there was still no way to know at what point the Vandenreich had crossed into the desert world.

"Grimmjow."

"Shut it and go to sleep."

"Just...how long have you been here?"

"Long enough," he repeated the same thing he always said.

"Two years?" He heard the bed creak as Grimmjow rolled back over to look at him. The lights had gone out, Ichigo couldn't see him but he could feel his angry glare.

"Why?"

"They caught you after I..." saying he beat him would probably piss him off so Ichigo chose his words carefully. "After our last battle."

There was silence. Ichigo knew he was right. He said nothing more, grateful the conversation ended without a punch in the face.

* * *

_**Thanks for the positive response to the first chapter! I am looking forward to this new story and it is still unfolding for me as I continue writing so I don't actually know just how it will end up in terms of bromance vs romance. I try to do whatever happens naturally in the story but I generally am a bromance girl so that's usually how my stories go, just in case you were wondering.**_

_**Thanks again for reading!**_

_**Riza **_


	3. Chapter 3

Grimmjow was very cold to him in the next few days. He was pissed about Ichigo figuring so much out about him, and he spent more time than usual away from the teen. That was how Ichigo ended up in so much trouble one day.

He'd been leaning over the railing watching a fight with his regular crew of gamblers. They must have been among the most loyal to Grimmjow because Ichigo was pretty sure they were also keeping an eye on him when he was out in the prison. He couldn't say he really liked them. Their entire existence was built around the gambling games, getting drunk and chain smoking. But they weren't Grimmjow, and they weren't allowed to hit him, so at least they gave him a break from the cold espada and the long silences that passed between them.

He was jostled by the bigger forms around him as people screamed obscenities at the pair fighting. Ichigo recognized them both because he'd gotten to know most of the slummy hollows who frequented the pit—the prison floor—and Grimmjow's corner of Purgatory. He'd been warned never to go up more than the fifth floor. Grimmjow said there were countless being above them with plenty of strength to challenge him and they were just smart enough not to get embroiled in the affairs of the pit. They watched from above with disgust and lived out their existences in solitude. That actually didn't sound too bad to Ichigo, but he was warned those above were very dangerous.

He didn't know the person who bumped into him at the end of the fight was one of those people from above, and that he'd been watching Ichigo for quite some time.

The fight had been particularly gory and Ichigo had stepped away before it finished, leaving him alone without his usual cohort as he made his way back to the cell. He was stopped, however, by a heavy hand on his shoulder.

He instinctively rolled out from under the touch and spun, ready to fight but stopped short.

"You're a soul reaper." He could tell at once from the man's maskless features and no visible hollow hole.

"I am," he acknowledged. He was very tall, his features dark to match his jet black hair. Ichigo was cautious, but the man showed no threatening signs. "And I take it you are too."

"Yeah." Ichigo didn't offer an specifics.

"I noticed you in the crowd. It's not often that a soul reaper comes this way. Did the Vandenriech send you through?"

"Yes."

"Me too."

At this, Ichigo reacted. If this was true, than this man might actually be an ally.

"Really? What's you're name? Who's squad are you on?"

"Aito Nakamura. Sixth seat of the Third Division."

Ichigo nodded and smiled, "Oh, under Gin Ichimaru."

"Yes, that's right." Ichigo never let his smile falter, but since Ichimaru had betrayed Soul Society two years ago, there was absolutely no way this man had been brought here in this war. He guessed in Purgatory news of Ichimaru's betrayal hadn't reached Nakamura. It was fortunate for Ichigo, because now he knew he was dealing with a liar.

"Come on up to my place, I want to hear how a boy like you ended up in here."

Grimmjow had told him not to go upstairs. They were close to the meal hall and Ichigo glanced around for Grimmjow or any of his loyal followers. He saw none. He chose to make his stand now, before getting caught up in more dangerous territory.

"Actually," he took a step back to give himself some time and distance, "Ichimaru betrayed Soul Society two years ago. But you'd know that if you were really captured by the Vandenreich. So, tell me why Soul Society really exiled you here."

Those dark features grew darker if possible and Ichigo was glad he'd given himself the extra room.

"Murder."

With the word he struck. Ichigo was ready. Unlike with the hollows—who were for the most part inhumanly large giving them an uncontested advantage—this man was within Ichigo's power to defeat. He may be larger and his arms thicker with muscle, but Ichigo had long been fighting opponents bigger than himself. So he dodged, used the man's weight against him and threw him into the wall. Nakamura spun in rage, Ichigo ducked again and came up with a knee. The other sputtered into his shoulder.

"Why lie? What did you want?" Ichigo stepped back from him again.

"Why do you think? The same reason that espada keeps you close."

Ichigo stiffened. Did he mean he desired him? Or had he also figured out Ichigo's worth. The teen wasn't really sure which thought was more unsettling.

"Come here!" Nakamura grabbed at him, Ichigo rolled and spun with another punch but this time his hand was caught and his back met the wall. When the traitor soul reaper leaned over him with a terrible look in his eyes, Ichigo was pretty sure he knew the correct meaning of his words.

Ichigo brought his other hand up when Nakamura grabbed his throat with choking force.

"Just pass out, it'll make things easier."

"Bastard," Ichigo choked out and got his knee up enough to cause some pain. They both staggered away from one another. People had started to notice them, it would only be a matter of time until Grimmjow caught wind and came to his rescue.

But he didn't want to be rescued—he wanted to save himself. He wanted to know he wasn't the weak creature Grimmjow made him out to be.

He turned a full circle at the punch to his jaw, but he came back with a strike of his own. He felt a pulse in his veins he hadn't known for nearly a month now. His breath quickened and his heart pounded for reasons other than fear and pain.

He was a warrior again, if only for a few brief minutes.

By the time Grimmjow got there, he'd busted a few knuckles, his face was cut up and bleeding, but Nakamura was on his knees and Ichigo triumphant above him.

Ichigo turned to meet the espada with a grin of renewed confidence, a cocky comment already forming on his lips, but Grimmjow shoved him into the wall and when Ichigo turned back Grimmjow was already three strikes in. Nakamura's face was a mess of blood, there was shock in his eyes and he made strangled noises. But Grimmjow didn't stop. Not when Nakamura's nose was so disjointed his whole face was disfigured. Not when he raised shaking hands up in pleading. Not when his voice broke into sobs at his very end for the brutal, inhumanly painful way he was being taken out. Grimmjow pounded his face into an unrecognizable mess of shattered bone, blood and cartilage.

When he finally stood up, there was utter silence around them, and he shook the blood from knuckles that must be broken. He spat on the corpse and wiped the blood off on his shirt.

"Don't touch what's mine."

Then he spun and grabbed Ichigo by the collar and hauled him back to the cell.

And every ounce of renewed confidence and energy in the teen was doused by the cold cruel act of murder he'd just witnessed.

"Why-"

"You know why." Grimmjow was pissed, trying to move swollen knuckles. Ichigo just sat on his bed, eyes unseeing where they rested on the far wall. He was only seventeen, after all.

"That's what protecting me means? Murdering anyone who gets near me."

"He did more than get near you. You know what he would have done if he'd gotten you alone." He looked up from his hand. "You should have called for me."

"I'm not completely helpless."

"I'll believe that when you stop leaving your opponents alive." The comment dropped heavily, the meaning two fold and the conversation ended there. The lights flickered too dim to see. Grimmjow's sight was considerably better than Ichigo's in the dark, but when they shut out completely nobody in the entire prison world could see. It only took seconds for the low light to become pitch black.

There was nothing left to do then, but to lay in silence, the bloody act of murder replaying itself in Ichigo's mind over and over.

* * *

**_Sorry for the shortness! Been busy! Thanks so much for the reviews, love the support!_**

**_Riza_**


	4. Chapter 4

"Were the lights out extra long last night?" Ichigo asked. He had either woken very early or the darkness had persisted for longer than usual.

"Yeah."

"Does that happen often?"

"Sometimes." Grimmjow didn't seem pleased himself. It was a terrifying thought—that maybe one day the lights would go out and not come back. They'd spend the rest of their lives blind, probably dying soon because of it. It was too creepy for Ichigo to consider but one look at Grimmjow told him he was thinking the same.

"Who controls them?"

"No one, the power was once on a timer, I think, but now the system is old and glitchy." He leaned out the door to see what kind of movement there was. "You should stay in here today."

"What, why?"

"Because if the lights go out and you're in the pit or meal hall, you might not survive. Even hollows don't like the dark. You could get trampled or something."

Ichigo swung his legs over the bed. "Hey, after yesterday I thought-" he stumbled unexpectedly and gripped the wall before he fell.

"You get wounded in that fight yesterday?" Grimmjow watched him hold his lower back.

"No I'm fine." Ichigo tried to straighten unsuccessfully.

"Don't lie." Grimmjow crossed the room and Ichigo tried to shove him back but he pulled his shirt up anyway. He stopped short when he saw the pale pink scar in the shape of a six. He let the teen go at once.

"It just hurts sometimes," Ichigo muttered without making eye contact.

For a moment, Grimmjow said nothing. Then he moved back to the door and slammed it shut after him. "All the more reason not to go out then." And he disappeared down the hall.

Ichigo glanced back at the wound and let out a long sigh before sitting down again.

* * *

"Do you think anyone will ever come for us?" They were both fresh from the showers—this was one place Grimmjow still never let Ichigo go alone—and water dripped from Ichigo's hair as he stared straight up at the pale ceiling high above. Even though he knew not all of the cells between here and the top were occupied, their sheer number meant there must be countless other creatures he'd still never laid eyes on.

He'd once wondered why Grimmjow hadn't suggested they move up there out of the dangers of the pit, but he knew the answer now—after nine weeks in Purgatory, with no hint of sunlight or fresh air—he knew he would have gone crazy without the games, the brawls, the requirement of constant vigilance it took to stay alive down here. It at least kept his skills a bit honed, and now that Grimmjow had decided it was best to improve his hand to hand combat skills, it was something to do. Every day they sparred on the pit floor. Chances were, Ichigo would get in another mix-up sooner or later, so Grimmjow thought it was a good idea to show him how to take down opponents far bigger than himself—he also thought it was necessary Ichigo learn how to finish a fight—and by that he meant kill.

Ichigo didn't argue, though he wasn't sure if he'd follow through when it came down to it. Even though the people here were still hollows, without spiritual pressure everyone felt a little more human. And bodies didn't evaporate like in other spiritual planes. Really, when it came down to it, he was a fighter, but not really a killer.

"I dunno." It took Grimmjow so long to respond to the question Ichigo forgot what he'd asked for half a second.

"You know it's been nine weeks since I arrived."

"Yeah, I know."

"What do you think that means?" Ichigo didn't want to say anything more overt about Grimmjow's plan.

"I'm not sure." He looked around to see if anyone was listening before continuing. "But in my gut, I know Bach wouldn't keep you alive here just for kicks. He knows you brought down Aizen. If he'd really won the war, he'd have come back here to finish you or convert you."

"So..." Ichigo didn't dare let himself trust in hope, but he felt his heart quicken at Grimmjow's words. "You think the Soul Reapers didn't fall that day, when I came here?"

"No. In either case, if the war had ended then, I think someone would have come for you by now. I think it's still going. That Zero squad you told me about must have intervened or something."

"I hope so." It meant his friends might still be alive. He lowered his head. Grimmjow watched him for a long moment. "What?" Ichigo asked.

"Nothing. I just wish whoever the fuck wins would hurry up." He didn't add the rest of the thought out loud—so he could slip out whatever portal they created with them.

"Who are you hoping for?"

"Neither," Grimmjow grunted.

"Yeah but one has to win."

"Obviously. I dunno, whoever I can kill easiest." He pushed back from the bar where they'd been leaning. "Come on, you look too good."

Ichigo cringed at the words. It was almost time for the lights to go out and Grimmjow hadn't knocked him around for a while. It wasn't like in the beginning. Ichigo felt much more like an equal now—though Grimmjow never hesitated to remind him of his place. But even if he'd gained more independence in this place, it all relied on their charade and he had to put up with the injuries it gave him. Grimmjow shoved him down on the bed. His strong hand wrapped around Ichigo's throat and the teen couldn't help that his hands shot up to pry Grimmjow's away. He squeezed hard and long, to ensure a dark, visible bruise.

When he withdrew, Ichigo waited for the punch and other standard strikes, but Girmmjow backed off with the barely audible comment of "that should be enough."

The lights went out but Ichigo continued to stare after Grimmjow. Ichigo supposed it made sense that as he became more resigned in his position in the prison, presumably he'd become more resigned in the bedroom as well. That must be what Grimmjow was thinking too.

It couldn't be possible he felt bad about hurting him, could it?

* * *

The lights did not come on in the morning. Grimmjow ordered him to stay in his bed. He heard the door clanking open and Grimmjow left. He shouted after him.

"What?" Grimmjow barked back.

"Oh, I thought you were leaving."

"No, I was just looking to see if there were any lights anywhere else." Their door banged shut again, then Grimmjow added with an invisible smirk. "What, you afraid of the dark?"

"Shut up."

The laugh he got back was the first he'd heard from Grimmjow since his arrival. It was strange, because it wasn't actually so much a mockery as it was a moment of levity. But that died quickly when the minutes passed and the system didn't reboot like normal. Then hours went by. Ichigo could hear Grimmjow's finger tapping impatiently. People began shouting beyond the cell. Ichigo was very glad their door was locked.

"Has this ever happened before?" Ichigo asked part way through the day.

"Never for this long." Grimmjow sounded strained. Ichigo had long since felt the firs wells of panic in himaelf. It was a terrible claustrophobic feeling, especially when you didn't know if it was going to end.

"And you can't see anything?"

"Nope."

"And everyone else is just as blind?"

"Yep."

"What will happen if they don't come back on?"

"What do you think? I'd give it a day or two before this whole place self destructs and everyone goes crazy."

"Great."

The tension grew all day. Ichigo tried to sleep more, but he couldn't under the stress of the situation. He tried to keep up conversation but Grimmjow was short with him. He hummed a song from his favourite band until Grimmjow told him to shut up. He counted the seconds until they became too many to count.

Then there was a flicker of life from the bulbs, the system rebooted and they all blinked and shielded their eyes from the sudden light. Ichigo didn't think he'd ever be so happy to see iron bars and grey cement.

"Shit," Grimmjow swore in relief and stood, stretching out the tension that had built in him. He looked outside at once. "Dumbasses." He commented at the four or five bodies in the pit.

"What did they do?"

"Probably just bumped into each other and slaughtered whatever touched them. That's what happens in the blackout. So like I said before, never get caught out here in the dark."

"Yeah I know, I'm always back before dark." He couldn't believe how much it sounded like something he'd have said to his dad a few years ago about his curfew.

"Yeah but blackouts are different, people go crazy."

"Okay."

"So stay in here for now. I'll get your food."

"Grimmjow-"

"Argue and I'll chain you back to that fucking bed."

Ichigo stopped. "I wasn't going to. I was just going to say, shouldn't you wait, in case it happens again soon?"

He shrugged. "There's no telling when it'll go again, and we need food." With that he left. It turned out to be the best decision as they got their meal in before lights out.

There was a buzz in the air the following day, everyone was antsy after a long day in the dark. More fights than usual took place on the pit floor. Ichigo spent most of his day watching at Grimmjow's side, the hand print bruise on his neck nice and dark and on display. He wasn't sure anyone paid him much attention anymore though, which was certainly for the best. Maybe someday Grimmjow wouldn't even bother putting on the show.

But then he caught himself. How could he be thinking that far down the road? He should be thinking about how to get out of this place. Since his arrival, he couldn't shake the feeling in his chest he got every time he thought of the last battle and the chances that most of his friends were gone. He knew that had something to do with his complacency—mainly the fact he hadn't torn this place apart looking for a way out. The other reason he hadn't was because he knew Grimmjow had, and all the others before him. If there was a way out, surely they would have found it. No the only way out was with their keepers—that was Grimmjow's plan after all.

Still, he'd grown far too accepting of his circumstances. If he didn't get out of here soon, he wasn't sure he'd recognize himself anymore.

Ichigo's attention was caught when the regular cheers turned to frantic shouts. There was a surge of movement all around him and for once the still, stale air of this place was disrupted by a cold blast, and the whole world shook around them.

"What is it?" he asked Grimmjow in alarm.

"A newcomer." He leaned in over the bar. "Stay here."

Grimmjow dropped down to the next level with ease. He was still no more than human, but he moved like a parkours runner between the levels of the prison when he needed or wanted to get somewhere fast.

Ichigo turned his attention back to the bright light forming in the middle of the pit, hungry hollows quickly moving in. He got a sick feeling in his gut, knowing whoever came through there didn't have a chance. He'd been saved by Grimmjow, but the espada wouldn't have any interest in saving another.

But what if it was another soul reaper? What if it was one of his friends?

He vaulted over the rail after Grimmjow.

He hadn't seen where the espada had gone but he was forging his own path through the hoard of men pushing their way to be close to the victim who came through. His size gave him an advantage in that he could slip through narrower spaces than most and that way weave around the larger forms. But this did him no good in the thick of it on the pit floor. He was shoved and jostled and even got an elbow in the nose. He could no longer see the opening past the other people.

What he did see, were furious blue eyes stuck on him from across the room.

And then the lights went out.

It was everything Grimmjow had said it would be, but even worse. Everyone had been in a frenzy to reach the newcomer. Now that surging, violent mass had been plunged into darkness. And just like the other day when those five or six had bumped into each other and turned on one another, now the whole crowd was a sea of lethal creatures.

He would have hit the ground if there had been room. Then he would have died under all the feet. But because they were so jam packed he just fell into more bodies when flailing limbs struck. His nose was busted, his lip split on his front teeth, he heard a ringing in one ear.

Then he heard his name.

"KUROSAKI!" The powerful cry some how cut through the other jumble of shouts and cries. He called back. "Grimmjow!" He called his name several times, until that iron grip was around him, and he'd never before been so happy to feel and smell the sweat of Grimmjow Jaggerjaques.

They were hardly better off together at first, but Grimmjow forced them through other people. Ichigo wasn't sure where he was trying to go, there really was no where _to_ go. They had no hope of finding the stairs or reaching the upper levels. But then Ichigo felt the cold wall press into his back and Grimmjow's collar was against his face.

"Shit, Grimmjow." Ichigo realized what the other was doing. With no other options, he'd shoved them against a wall and now he was between Ichigo and the hoard. He was essentially using himself as a human shield.

"Shut up, you know I need you alive." He grunted as he was struck from countless clawing hands, angry fists and desperate kicks. His body was shoved tight against Ichigo several times. In this proximity there was no hiding his noises of pain.

"Fuck." They were almost drug down by whatever smashed into Grimmjow's back. Then Ichigo felt the tug and Grimmjow let him go.

"Grimmjow!" He could make nothing out in the dark, but he thought he could distinguish Grimmjow's curses above the others. Someone had gotten hold of him and now he was fighting for his life.

"Dammit," Ichigo swore but remained flat against the wall. "Grimmjow!"

"Motherfucker!" Came the coughing response and he felt Grimmjow hit the wall hard beside him. There were several wet thuds, rough scrapes against the wall, then something fell against Ichigo's feet.

"Grimmjow!"

"I'm right here." The voice came from his side and he gasped out in start. Grimmjow had come out on top, but when he reached for Ichigo again, the teen smelled the blood on him, then he felt it and instead of Grimmjow holding onto him it quickly became the opposite and Ichigo had to take his weight.

"There's alot of blood." Ichigo felt it on his back. Grimmjow's breaths were heavy and wet.

"He had a blade."

"Where did he get you?" But Ichigo felt the source of the wound in Grimmjow's back and the other cried out, one knees giving completely.

"Shit it's bad."

"I fucking know that." Grimmjow barked at him. There was more breathing room around them—Ichigo guessed enough had been wounded or killed to slow down the frenzy, so he worked his way along the wall in the dark, holding Grimmjow up the entire time. They tripped on bodies, some groaned, most didn't. They never let go of the wall, knowing it would eventually bring them back around to the staircase. When Ichigo ran into the metal rail he swore but grabbed hold of it and guided them up. Even the stairs were slick with blood and cramped with bodies.

Grimmjow halted once, coughing harshly. It sounded bad, like blood was in his lungs. Then he gripped Ichigo back all the harder and they continued on, up three flights until Ichigo was patting down the wall and finding their cell.

Grimmjow collapsed onto his bed with a noise of pain, but he was still conscious of the danger. Ichigo safely locked up behind him but it wasn't good enough for Grimmjow. "Close the curtains."

Ichigo obeyed.

"You can't let them see you weak," he guessed.

"You can't either. Remember who's keeping you alive."

"Yeah well, right now it sounds like it's gonna be me keeping you breathing." He moved back through the dark to Grimmjow but his wrist was caught and he stumbled to his knees, Grimmjow's angry breath hissing out past the pain.

"Only cause you fucked up. I told you to stay where you were."

"I know." Ichigo pulled his hand free but he couldn't find it in himself to apologize after everything Grimmjow had done to him. "Just let me help you, okay?"

"Fuck off I'll be fine." The hand that tried to push him back was weak. It was Ichigo's turn to force Grimmjow into doing something he didn't want to do. He felt a large rip in Grimmjow's shirt. The other hissed in pain as his fingers found the wound.

"Damn, how many times did you get cut?"

"Dunno..." Ichigo grabbed the tear in his shirt and split the fabric. "Hey!"

"Grimmjow let me work."

"Don't fucking touch me!" Ichigo ignored him pulled the shreds of fabric away just when the lights came back on.

He froze, and suddenly understood Grimmjow's protest. Ichigo hadn't really given it much thought, but it now struck him that all this time in their close proximity he'd never seen Grimmjow with his shirt off, unlike his espada days when his chest and half his back were on display. All over Grimmjow's torso were scars. And from what Ichigo could see of his back it looked like the skin had healed thick over old lash marks. Despite the urgency of the situation, Ichigo dropped the bundle of cloth in horror.

"You were tortured?"

Grimmjow glared at him, despite his current pain.

"The Vandenreich?" Ichigo asked.

"Of course," Grimmjow finally muttered and, seeing now that he had no other option, lay back on his cot, relaxing his bruised and cut muscles. He didn't look at Ichigo when he spoke. "Didn't give 'em nothin' either. But they sent me here, with the promise they'd come back to finish the interrogation when they had more time."

"Two years ago."

"Not quite"

Ichigo cringed. How long had they had him?

"Well, you gonna patch me up or what?"

"Uh, yeah, okay."

It was an awful job, once Ichigo got going and saw the extent of the damage, mostly to Grimmjow's back. Terrible bruises riddled his whole body from shielding Ichigo. But worst of all the creature he'd fought in the dark had had something sharp that had cut him up all over and punctured him deep in the back, just below his ribs.

He was in terrible pain and even after Ichigo diligently wrapped every wound, redressed him to hide the damage, there was no way to pretend he was fine. If someone chose to challenge him now, he was done, and then, so was Ichigo.

But when they finally dared roll back the curtain, and were hit with the wall of stench of rotting corpses and saw the absolute devastation of the pit and all the lower levels, they knew no one would be coming for a fight. No one in their right mind would be walking around in that and everyone was also probably licking their wounds back in the safety of their cells. Ichigo quickly sealed their curtains shut again to keep out the horrible scent and scene.

"What happens now?" He asked the pale faced espada braced against one wall where he'd half collapsed after backing away from the smell.

"I don't know. Something like this has never happened, not on this scale."

"What about the person who came through?"

"No chance they made it in the middle of that."

Ichigo nodded, he knew that as much as Grimmjow but he still feared it had been a soul reaper, maybe even a friend.

"Do you think many survived?"

Grimmjow sat slowly, a low groan escaping him. "Less than half maybe." Ichigo wondered if the ones he'd gotten to know and with whom he spent his days had survived. "Don't go out there."

"You don't have to tell me." Ichigo turned to find Grimmjow hunched painfully. "Grimmjow?"

He just shook his head and took slow breaths. It was the wound on his back, Ichigo was sure. He was afraid it had gone deep enough to puncture a lung. His suspicions only deepened when he spit a clump of blood on the floor.

"I'll keep watch." Ichigo said, knowing Grimmjow was concerned about attackers while he was weak. The espada looked at him and then without comment he lay back down. After a few moments of painful breaths, he was under. Ichigo stood at the curtains, watching him. If ever he'd wanted to escape, now was the time, but he knew he was well past that option now. Their best chances of survival were together, and nothing had driven that home more than the brawl.

* * *

_**Here you go, a faster, longer update to make up for the short one last time. Thanks for the reviews!**_

_**Riza**_


	5. Chapter 5

Ichigo thought they'd have to abandon the third level all together, but little by little, the bodies started disappearing. They weren't returning to spiritual dust—those weaker creatures who kept the prison running as smoothly as it did had begun to emerge and pick up the bodies. Ichigo actually pitied them, dragging themselves through the filth of blood and body parts each day. They would probably get sick and die from infection anyway. The death toll of the brawl wasn't all told yet, and turning back to the hacking coughs of blood that came out of Grimmjow, Ichigo was getting pretty sure it would claim one more victim.

"It's not just the wound anymore," he moved over to Grimmjow's bed and saw his face was slick with sweat, pale as paper save the dark circles under his eyes. "You're sick too, aren't you?"

"I'm fuckin' fine." There was no point denying it, Ichigo wasn't sure why Grimmjow bothered, but perhaps the espada actually thought Ichigo would try to finish him off.

"There's no point lying, Grimmjow." The other refused to respond. There was nothing to be done about it anyway, he could do nothing more for Grimmjow than watch over him while he hovered on the edge.

It got much worse before it got better. After seeing him hurl into the metal toilet between their cots, and then gag on blood and promptly faint, Ichigo thought Grimmjow had finally succumbed. But after that last feverish, painful night, the espada rallied. Ichigo wasn't sure where he found the strength, when neither of them had eaten for days, but he mustered it regardless—and just in time, it turned out. Maybe the sixth sense of the sixth espada told him he was going to have company soon, because he'd hardly redressed after Ichigo changed his bandages before a clatter came on the bars outside their door. Grimmjow shoved the bloodied bandages under his mattress and motioned Icghio to go on his cot. He obeyed and watched Grimmjow plaster a scowl on his face before tearing back the curtains.

"What?" He barked with all the danger of the King of Purgatory. There was a group of them, haggard looking after the last few days, and they were clearly shocked to see Grimmjow in such an apparently fit state.

"You're alive?"

"Course I'm fucking alive." He threw the door open. "Why? Were you lot looking for a challenge?"

"Ah..." they looked at each other, then looked back to him. "No." Clearly they had, and clearly they had expected an easier prey. So they changed their minds and covered as best they could. "We just wanted to let you know the meal hall is running again."

"Great, now get out of my fucking face!" They scattered. Grimmjow watched them go and stepped out onto the walkway for the first time in days. He saw movement all around, others from above who'd always wanted to get nearer the action had moved in. His sharp eyes scanned the sea of cells and picked out far more new inhabitants than he'd thought—but then he realized these creeps had likely come down to slaughter those who were left. It was nearly a whole new turn over.

A fresh start.

He looked back at Ichigo.

"What?" The teen asked.

"Nothing." He rubbed his ribs which had been very sore since the fight, and seemed to decided he was ready to move around. "Let's go eat."

Ichigo didn't argue. He was starving. They made their way up to the meal hall. Grimmjow was still slow moving but he covered slowness with a saunter. His cold eyes washing over all the faces around them. They got their meal in before they met trouble.

"So you ain't dead." It was a new face, a large hollow with a cracked mask but mostly white porcelain all over his face. His skin was purple and red, his eyes just dark points. Ichigo knew a challenger had risen. He also knew Grimmjow was not up to the task. The adhuchas towered over them both. Everyone around them was watching—those not brave enough to challenge him themselves wanted to see Grimmjow's strength put to the test.

Grimmjow stood from his empty bowl of gruel.

"And I don't know you, so that means you must be one of the pussies who moved in from above. Too afraid to move down until the way was clear, huh?"

"No. It was just overpopulated with bottom feeding filth before that blackout."

Anyone from before took offence. Everyone else looked between the challenger and Grimmjow, waiting for it to start.

"So what, you wanna be King now that there's been a turn over?"

"About sums it up."

"Then let's go."

They both moved at the same time. Grimmjow swung low, keeping his hands close to his body to protect his wounded core. The other drove down with his height advantage. Grimmjow connected first, straight in the ribs, but the hollow got him in the side of the face, splitting his eyebrow with one blow. He absorbed this, however, and came up with a second jab that made the other sputter.

They danced in a circle, this was not going to be an easy fight for either of them. Ichigo kept one eye on the crowd, he could see that there were factions, new dynamics in the pit now that others had moved from above. Not everyone had liked Grimmjow before, but now those who were left from the original inhabitants all seemed to cheering for Grimmjow. Of the rest from above, some were clearly routing for Grimmjow's downfall and some seemed to be on the fence about the whole situation. Ichigo just had to hope there were no more challengers among the crowd, because he definitely didn't think Grimmjow could handle two fights.

After the next strike, he was pretty certain Grimmjow couldn't handle one.

That bone mask came down hard with sickening crack against Grimmjow's skull when the larger hollow headbutted him. Grimmjow fell hard onto the bench where Ichigo was still sitting, holding onto it and his slipping consciousness. His face was covered in blood, he gasped for breath, the sharp edge of pain in every intake.

Ichigo stood up.

"Don't," Grimmjow warned, trying to push himself up. "Don't interfere." He couldn't make it on his own but the hollow grabbed his shirt and hauled him back, throwing him to the floor. When his foot drove into Grimmjow's back, Ichigo knew it was over.

Everything in the espada wanted to scream. But somehow he held it back. Maybe the blood that lurched up his throat helped. Ichigo took another step closer, hovering at the edge of the ring.

When Grimmjow didn't get up right away, Ichigo moved closer.

"You want in on this, smallfry?" The hollow faced him when he noticed him, leaving Grimmjow to wheeze on the ground.

"Yeah, I think I do."

He caught the edge of a grin behind the hollow mask. He also caught the look on Grimmjow's face—a mix between rage and pain—and then he caught the fist coming for him. He kept one hand on the hollow's wrist and rolled along his body, jerking back sharply to disjoint the limb. The creature jolted in pain but came back hard with his other hand. Ichigo spun from the punch, but brought his arm up to block the next attack. It made him stagger and shot a chill of pain through his left forearm. He ducked the next and threw a kick into his opponent's stomach. When the creature doubled he brought a knee up but it struck that hollow mask and he hollered in the shock of pain and next thing his foot was swept from under him and he was on his back.

"Gha!" He barely caught the foot that came for his face. He lay on his back using everything he had to keep it back.

Then the hollow lurched to one side and fell away from Ichigo.

"Hey! We're not done!" Grimmjow growled out. Then he looked down to Ichigo and stuck out his hand.

For a moment, Ichigo just stared at it, then he took it and let Grimmjow help him up.

"What, protecting your bitch are you?"

"He ain't my bitch, he's my fucking right hand man." Again, Ichigo suppressed his surprise. "And all you newcomers better show him and the others who were here before some dann respect., 'cause you're in our territory and you gotta play by our rules."

His shout was for the whole crowd. And it was calculated—it was brilliant. Because now he'd made the fight about them all, and now he'd secured the support of anyone who'd been here before. He was offering them a higher spot on the totem pole, but the only way they'd get to keep it, was if he survived this fight. And so, they would probably overlook the fact Grimmjow had needed Ichigo's help surviving it.

"Your words are meaningless." The other challenged, "I'm going to break your neck."

"You ain't even worth my time." He folded his arms casually across his chest. _"Smallfry_ here can knock you flat in ten seconds."

He nodded to Ichigo. The teen caught the flash of his eyes to the hollow's neck—indicating a move they had practices while sparring. Ichigo went for it. He knew Grimmjow was barely standing and this was their only way out of the fight. He just barely dodged a swing, then he jumped, hooked his elbow around the creature's neck and used his momentum and body weight to drag him down onto his back. He barely got his arm free before a foot came down hard into the creature's bone mask.

Grimmjow rested it there for a second, staring down on his prey.

"Dumbass, my hollow mask covers my face."

"I know." Grimmjow smiled like a demon above him. "But it doesn't cover the back of your skull."

And he dropped, driving a knee into the bone mask and consequently the hollow's head hard into the floor. It wasn't enough, but now Grimmjow was down and his hands were around the hollow's head and it was all over. He drew his head up and back, slamming it down with a brutality Ichigo could barely stomach. But he did, he had to. He stared with dead eyes at the scene. He adopted Grimmjow's cold glare when pink flesh and grey chunks flicked up and spread over the meal hall floor. And when Grimmjow was done, Ichigo offered him the same hand he'd been given, though this time it was all that could get the King back to his feet. The crowd cheered. He surveyed them with judgemental eyes and despite the fact he was about to drop, he looked at them with cold ferocity as if he could see into each of their eyes all at once.

"Anyone else want to fuck with me, or do you understand the way things work down here?"

Silence didn't hold for very long. Ichigo wasn't sure if the old inhabitants could tell Grimmjow was hurt or not, but they began a cheer that would have drowned out any challengers and perhaps intimidated anyone who was considering it.

"Alright then. Ichigo." He jerked his head back toward their cell and marched away. He didn't falter the entire way back, but by the time Ichigo had the cell open and the curtains closed, he collapsed to his knees by the toilet and heaved out blood.

"Crap." Ichigo knelt next to him, seeing the utter agony in his features.

"I can't fucking breathe." Grimmjow gasped out when his head fell hard against the toilet seat and he just tried to catch the oxygen in the air.

"He hit you in your stab wound." Ichigo could see the blood leaking into his white shirt. "It may have forced more blood into your lung."

Grimmjow shook his head. "...it's different...fuck!"

His eyes shut tight in pain. Ichigo looked him over again, the way one hand clenched over his chest as if to stop pain, the discolouration around his lips and the shortness of breath.

"Oh shit, you've got a collapsed lung."

Grimmjow opened his eyes but then there was a banging at their doors.

"Go away!" Ichigo hollered.

"Let us in, kid." He was pretty sure that was the voice of Gleb, one of the gamblers he used to play with. "Come on, we know what we saw back there, Jaggerjaques is in trouble, isn't he?"

"Shit." Ichigo glanced at Grimmjow but he had little choice. They knew, there were a few options as to how this would play out.

"...don..'t" he ignored Grimmjow's weak protest and pulled back the curtain to reveal Gleb with three of the other hollows he knew from gambling. They had always been the most loyal, so he hoped that they were here to help save Grimmjow, not finish him off.

"Shit." They swore when they saw Grimmjow. "Let us in now."

Ichigo did. They whipped the curtain back into place and grabbed hold of Grimmjow.

"Careful!" Ichigo warned.

"You come to fucking kill me?" Grimmjow was having trouble focusing.

"No, you idiot, we need you to live so we can keep things the way we like it down here. So shut up and let us save your damn life."

They ripped his shirt off but when confronted with the mess of bloody bandages they realized how much work they had and turned back to Ichigo.

"His lung is collapsed," the teen explained.

"Shit, what do we do?"

"Reinflate it. There must be air around it, we need to get it out."

"How?"

"With a tube, through his chest."

"The fuck?" Grimmjow reacted.

"A pen will do." Ichigo had seen Grimmjow using some at his desk in his endless efforts to keep track of the war and any strategies he'd concocted. Ichigo quickly found one and disassembled it until he just had the cylindrical casing. Grimmjow looked at it in the teen's hand,

"No. Fucking. Way."

The other hollows looked to Ichigo. "Will that work?"

"It's our only choice."

They turned back to Grimmjow.

"Don't you fucking dare."

"Sorry King, but we need you to live."

They pinned him to the ground. Someone had his legs, another hooked his arms above his head and someone else sealed his mouth with their hand so no one beyond the cell would hear the scream.

And Ichigo drove the plastic shaft into his chest.

His whole body lurched in their hold, the scream absorbed into a hand and then he went mostly limp. The hand was removed and he took a huge gasp of air.

"Did it work?" Someone asked.

"I think so." Ichigo tried to read Grimmjow's breathing, but the espada nodded, indicating it was better.

"Do we leave it in?"

"I don't know..." Ichigo had pieced this much together from movies and his experience as a physician's son. Now he wasn't sure what to do. "Leave it for a little bit I guess."

"I'm gonna fucking kill you," Grimmjow groaned when he finally got his voice back.

"We just saved you," Ichigo shot back.

"Come on, Jaggerjaques, the kid did good." Blue eyes rolled toward Gleb in a glare but he didn't say anything more. He looked close to passing out. "Now, we'll keep curious eyes away for as long as we can if you can put him back together."

"I will," Ichigo said. "Thanks, Gleb."

"Hey, we owe you kid, if we lose him, we lose everything."

Ichigo just nodded. He turned back to Grimmjow when they left, finding blue eyes fixed on him.

"I bet you're fucking loving this."

"Not all of us are like you, Grimmjow. Your pain doesn't make me happy." Ichigo noticed a shift in blue eyes but it was impossible to tell what that meant. He began rebandaging open wounds. "So, I'm your _right hand man_?"

"Shut up, it was to save face when you fucking intervened."

"If I hadn't you'd be dead."

Grimmjow didn't comment for a while. "It's better this way anyhow." Ichigo wasn't sure what that meant, if it was better for himself, for Grimmjow or both. It was certainly better for Ichigo if he didn't have to get beat up for show so often, and he wouldn't mind people not looking at him like _that_ all the time.

"But you can't go soft in a fight. You do that and we both lose face."

"I know." After today, Ichigo was more prepared to finish a fight.

"Good. Help me up."

Ichigo managed to get him into his bed but still wasn't sure what to do about the shunt.

"Just yank it out," Grimmjow ordered when he saw him hesitating.

"I...okay. Just don't scream."

Grimmjow lurched and his eyes shut in pain, but he didn't make a sound.

"Here." Ichigo covered this wound as well. "Now rest." Grimmjow's eyes were already heavy, but he fought the draw of sleep a moment longer.

"You could have let me die."

"You could have let me die ten times since I got here."

"But you know why I saved your life."

"Well, Grimmjow, I'm not going to draw you a picture. You know me, you should know why I helped you."

"You need me to survive," he said without conviction.

"And you know that's not the answer."

Blue eyes stayed on him for a long moment before dropping back to the floor. "Whatever." he shut his eyes and was asleep in moments.

* * *

_**Thanks to all the awesome reviews, you guys really inspire me to keep writing, thanks so much! Sorry with the slower updates-as I was writing this story I got side tracked with another Ichigo-Grimmjow one that has taken over my life, I'm pretty excited about it but I will finish this one before I start publishing that one! Enjoy your weekend!**_

_**Riza**_


	6. Chapter 6

"Here, get that down you."

Grimmjow downed the alcohol in one swig. Ichigo looked on with disapproval. Grimmjow was in no state for alcohol, let alone a fight, which the alcohol was in preparation for. Ichigo had been by his side for three days trying to get him well, now he was going to throw it away to defend his title. Still, Ichigo didn't really know what other choice he had, and he definitely could not help Grimmjow out this time or questions would be raised. Gleb handed Grimmjow another drink before giving him a hand up.

Grimmjow never spoke. It was clear he was unaccustomed to being taken care of—by Ichigo or his underlings. He had stopped shouting at them, but Ichigo was pretty sure they were far from ever hearing a 'thank-you.'

It was a new dynamic, to be sure. It was more comfortable, if it could be maintained. Gleb and the others actively worked to maintain order, retain supporters and because of their vested interest, there was little fear of them ever turning. So long as Grimmjow could fight through the pain, once he made it out on the other side, he'd hold an even strong position than before.

And so long as this prison was his future, it was the best outcome for Ichgio too.

They went out to the pit. A crowd had already gathered. The challenger had called from the pit floor an hour earlier, and so everyone knew the fight was on. Grimmjow glanced up with that familiar cold stare to take in the rows and rows of walkways full of people. Ichigo guessed he needed that—he needed to know everything was on the line in order to muster the strength.

They had to let him go alone onto the floor. Ichigo tried to maintain his look of confidence as he took his place along the walkway with the rest of the cohort.

The fight was a bloody mess, but Grimmjow ended it in seconds like he had so many other fights since Ichigo's arrival. He didn't even take one hit. It was something to see, though Ichigo never really liked seeing or hearing a neck break, or watching Grimmjow beat them into an unrecognizable mess. It seemed to be part of his declaration of leadership—mess with him, and he'll leave you a mess on the floor.

After that, there were less challenges, those from above realized Grimmjow didn't actually do much as King of Purgatory and so it was probably for the best to keep him in power. Like Grimmjow had said a long time ago—being King really wasn't worth it. There weren't many perks except private shower time and first in line at meal hall. It was as meaningless as their false 'days' and nights' dictated by a faulty power system. But there was no backing out of it now—the only way to step down was to die.

Ichigo enjoyed the respect that came with being Grimmjow's right hand. Ichigo appreciated that he'd fallen into an enviable position within the prison system—but that was little consolation to the fact he was in prison and somewhere else a war was still going on, or else, the entire world had fallen under the enslavement of the Vandenreich King.

These thoughts occupied his mind most of the time. He explored the prison, even beyond the boundaries Grimmjow had set for him. The other had not really been watching him lately. Though he acted tough for the public, Grimmjow was still suffering. Ichigo was pretty sure he'd developed a lung infection by the way he breathed while asleep and the way he coughed while awake.

Every day, Ichigo returned with no more leads on escape. He would slump onto his bed and just before lights out Grimmjow would practically collapsed on his own. Ichigo realized they'd barely spoken for days. Grimmjow didn't take being weak very well.

Despite his constant sullen mood, Ichigo asked Grimmjow about his own attempts at escape. At first the other just told him to drop the subject but after enough nagging Ichigo got answers that crushed most of his hopes. Anything he had possibly thought of Grimmjow had already tried. So he concluded the espada was right, it was just a waiting game, but Ichigo was tired of waiting.

There were still some unanswered questions, namely where did their food and water supply come from? It was while attempting to trace a pipe back to its origin that Ichigo became aware he was being watched. He was just outside the showers, staring straight up the wall at the one water line he could find when he realized a group of hollows were eyeing him. They were much more advanced than most he saw, all of them arrancar and nearly as human looking as Grimmjow. He faced them straight on—Grimmjow had told him not to take shit from anyone—so he called out to them to see what they wanted. It was only when his back was turned to the shower entrance that he realized his mistake.

Someone had been waiting for this moment, just inside the shower entrance. He felt the movement but didn't have time to react before he was caught.

Ichigo knew his danger at once. A hand closed over his mouth and he was dragged backward into the room. They had planned this, and executed it with precision, making sure no one saw and that the showers were clear. The group that had been watching him instantly followed in after them and cut of any chance of Ichigo escaping. He barely had time to struggle before the first blow came, quick and hard to the back of his head and he was let go to collapse on the filthy floor.

The blow had stunned him, and he could barely see as they circled him. Water from the constant streams ran under and around him—the cold was enough to keep him from fading completely.

Then they started in on him. They kicked him in the stomach, the back, the shoulder. Someone stepped on his hand and dug in their heel. Someone else got their hand in his hair and held his head up while they smashed their fist into his face.

They stopped when he spewed bloody vomit.

"That's enough for now."

Ichigo didn't know what those words meant, but when he finished lurching hands were on him again and someone took hold of his shirt, tearing it from him. He fought back when he felt hands at his now bare hips. And when they forced his pants off he felt a new kind of panic and fear.

"Tie his hands." Ichigo tried to resist but he was barely managing to breathe for the pain of the beating. His naked body was cut up and bruised. And now the group was staring at him, eyes cold in a way Grimmjow's eyes had never been, even at his most hateful moment.

The one who'd bound him didn't back off when he was done. He put a hand over his throat to keep him flat on his back and then turned back to his fellows.

"We doing this now?"

Their leader nodded. "Make him scream and cry like the child he is. The others should be doing the same to Jaggerjaques now. We'll show the rest of Purgatory how weak their King and his right hand really are."

"Then we execute them and take over," another concluded.

"And kill anyone who was loyal to the Sixth." The leader turned his eyes back to Ichigo. "Do it." Ichigo fought with the last of his strength. He'd never felt so desperate, so terrified, so weak and outnumbered. He screamed obscenities at them. When the others helped pin his ankles, he screamed all the louder for some hope that someone beyond the entry would intervene.

But this was prison. This was Purgatory. And this entire world was run by the cruelest of creatures, literally heartless and not a soul that happened to pass by would ever care, or stop to help.

All but one.

Grimmjow struck with a fury Ichigo had never seen—not that day the espada had nearly killed him—not in the sands of Hueco Mundo—not even here, when he'd carved that six into Ichigo's back—no, Grimmjow Jaggerjaques killed them with a vengeance—a rage not hot but frigid cold. He looked like a wild animal—he'd clearly taken a few hits escaping his own assault in this planned coup. His clothes were torn up, blood trailed from his hair and now as their fight pushed him under those constant jets of water his blue hair was plastered to his face, his white shirt clung to a heaving chest.

The surprise of his arrival had given him an edge that allowed him to take them out despite being outnumbered, but even if they had seen him coming, Ichigo was fairly certain he still would have ripped them apart.

In a world with no spiritual pressure, he was no stronger than them, he was simply the better killer. And when they all lay dead around him, necks broken, eyes pushed into skulls or throats crushed—he just stood there, breath rattling in infected lungs, eyes fixed on a far away point.

Slowly he came back to himself and turned to the naked teen on the floor.

There were no words between them. Some far away part of Ichigo's brain told him he must be in shock, the way he felt numb, the rapid pulse he could hear in his ears, the way every inch of his body shook. Grimmjow took his wrists, sat him up and undid the bonds. He found his pants, soaking wet, and worked them up over trembling legs. Then he pulled him up to his feet. His knees didn't hold and Grimmjow caught him again.

"Come on," Grimmjow said in a voice so different from those harsh tones Ichigo was used to hearing.

Ichigo opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He could hardly get enough air past near-hyperventilating breaths, but he met Grimmjow's eyes. They stared at one another and, for the first time, Ichigo thought the espada actually saw him as a human, a boy, stuck in a hell hole of criminal demons. Grimmjow said nothing, but he didn't let him go, and he gave a sort of nod, as if giving Ichigo permission to be human, to have a human reaction to what almost just happened to him. Ichigo felt it break over him, felt every part of himself collapse in on itself, and he bowed his head into the chest of the man who'd once tried to kill him, and sobbed the most violent, desperate tears he'd ever shed in his seventeen years.

* * *

**_Ah, emotional. I love to write action but also emotion though I find the latter very hard and exhausting! _**

**_Thanks for the reviews, I've really enjoyed hearing your feedback on this one. And I love that it has been read on the beach and used as motivation to complete homework-it amazes me when I start to think about how this site allows me to connect in in some way with people from all over the world and in all walks of life. So cool!_**

**_thanks again!_**

**_Riza_**


	7. Chapter 7

"Get him some new clothes down in laundry."

"Anything else?"

"Just keep an eye out for more trouble."

"I'm pretty sure the way you tore those bastards apart will keep anyone else from trying."

"Fucking better." Grimmjow shut the curtain again when Gleb left. He turned back to the teen still trembling where he sat on his bed. He moved back to his side and finished bandaging Ichigo's broken fingers. Ichigo stared at the opposite wall the whole time. He still shook as hard as he had in the cell.

Grimmjow went over to his desk and swiped the canteen from it. He uncapped it and held it up to Ichigo's lips. The teen expected water and coughed when he tasted the bitter, burning liquid.

"Just drink it." Grimmjow tipped it back again and this time Ichigo did swallow. When the canteen was empty, Ichigo was sitting a little more calmly but his stare was just as vacant.

"Lay down."

Ichigo didn't respond. Didn't move.

"Come on." Grimmjow pushed him down. Ichigo moved like a robot, not helping, not fighting it. Grimmjow had to pull his legs up onto the bed and drape the blanket over him. "Shut you eyes." He commanded when he saw Ichigo was still just staring at nothing. When haunted eyes finally shut, Grimmjow sat down on his own bed and dropped his head into hands.

"Shit."

* * *

Fingers snapped before blood shot eyes.

"You with it today?"

Ichigo blinked and rubbed his face, exhausted in a way so different from what he knew. His body ached all over, even if Grimmjow had stopped them from doing their worst to him, they'd still delivered terrible blows.

His groan of pain was good enough to tell Grimmjow he'd snapped out of his trance.

"Good." The espada seemed to have returned to his harsher tones. "Gleb brought you clothes and food." He pointed to the desk.

Ichigo sat stiffly and noticed Grimmjow was heading for the door.

"Where are you going?" His voice was hoarse.

"To fuck some people up, make a point."

"Oh."

"Don't go out today." He opened the door.

"Grimmjow."

He stopped and looked back at the teen, but there was no way for him to voice what he wanted to say.

"Just lay low," Grimmjow said to end the silence and stepped outside, locking the door behind him.

* * *

Ichigo pissed blood and gagged when he tried to eat. His stomach hurt the worst because they'd kicked him there two or three times. He had to hope they hadn't busted any vital organs.

He checked his wounds and redressed. He felt dirty, but he didn't think he'd be able to face the showers right now.

Grimmjow returned with bloody fists. He'd proven his point to whatever poor souls had been the best target but now he was coughing, the infection in his chest sounded worse after all the exertion of the last two days.

He didn't say anything and they both went to sleep early.

Ichigo woke to harsh coughing in the morning. Grimmjow sat bent over on his bed as the coughing fit wracked him. Ichigo watched him struggle to catch his breath afterwards, but worse, he saw the tint of crimson on his mouth that Grimmjow wiped away with the back of his hand. He let out a groan as he sat and Grimmjow just noticed he was awake. He didn't say anything but stood up.

"I'm showering." He left it at that, possibly to give Ichigo the choice, he wasn't really sure, what he did know was that he needed to face that room again some time and he did still feel dirty so he just nodded and stood too.

Grimmjow didn't even have to bark out his usual command. Everyone understood now, and whatever Grimmjow had done yesterday to ensure loyalty must have worked because everyone seemed to make room for him as they passed.

The bodies were gone—though Ichigo had known they would be. He still couldn't help that his chest tightened, his breath quickened, when entering the room. He usually showered as quickly as possible, never quite sure if Grimmjow would wait for him to finish or not, but now his motions slowed as he pulled his shirt over his shoulders and his eyes stuck to the space on the floor where they'd pinned him.

In the end, neither of them got a chance to shower, as they heard excited shouts outside. Grimmjow immediately redressed and Ichigo threw his shirt back on. They both recognized the chant.

"The portal's opening," Ichigo breathed when they got back into the thick of the crowd on the pit floor. "I wonder who's coming through."

Grimmjow said nothing, just watching. A dark crack formed in the middle of the floor, a blue tint of light shone out of it and a cold air washed over them in place of the stale stench of the prison.

"This isn't right," Grimmjow whispered, and Ichigo saw the same reaction on many face. He jolted when Grimmjow grabbed his wrist.

"You think...maybe someone's coming for me?"

"Maybe."

Ichigo's heart skipped. He knew there were only two options. If it was the Vandenreich, he wondered if Grimmjow really would let them take him, to hitch a ride back. It took some time for a person to emerge. Ichigo didn't remember much about the transition himself—he'd just been defeated in battle and barely conscious when they'd tossed him through the portal.

Then with a bang the doorway collapsed, the room exploded in blue light for one brief second, and everyone staggered from the wash of power in its wake.

"Shit." Grimmjow's grip on him tightened. There were three, in their white double breasted trench coats, dark hair and even darker grins as they surveyed the powerless beings around them.

"I thought people came through naked," Ichigo whispered.

"They came through a different portal—they came through with their spiritual pressure in tact."

"Then we stand no chance." He tried to take a step back but Grimmjow had him in a vice grip. "Grimmjow..." the espada looked back at him. They had seconds before the three spotted him in the crowd. "Don't do this. Don't hand me over to them."

He yanked again but the espada didn't let him go. He stood frozen, staring at the teen he'd protected for this very purpose, to let him be taken, so he could slip through at the last second.

"Grimmjow-"

"Shut up," the espada hissed but he crouched low and dragged him down behind the heads of the others. The Vandenreich started speaking, the inmates listened—for the moment. Ichigo guessed it would only take seconds for chaos to erupt and he still wasn't sure what Grimmjow was going to do. He seemed angry, but Ichigo wasn't sure at who or what. He guessed he was fighting with himself about what to do.

"You bastard," Grimmjow growled when he seemed to make up his mind. "Get in the fucking shower room and don't come back out."

He let him go and shoved him toward the door. Ichigo gave him a glance, not sure what he was going to do, but hurried inside before his orange hair was spotted. Grimmjow stood back up just as the three announced they were in fact here for one Ichigo Kurosaki.

"I broke his fucking neck the moment he stepped through," Grimmjow announced in a loud clear voice before a soul could think to counter him. It was a tricky game, but on the heels of his reinforcement of power, silence held and no one countered him.

"Is that so?" They stepped through the crowd. No one really had a choice but to get out of their way as their spiritual pressure was overwhelming to them.

"You should have known I would, when you sent him through."

"Honestly, we didn't think you'd still be alive, after what we did to you, Jaggerjaques."

They came to a stop before him.

"It'd take more than that to kill me, you sons of bitches."

"I see. So I take it you're the boss of this hellhole then?"

"I am."

"Then you know where Kurosaki is."

"I told you-"

"We also know that someone like you could not kill someone like him."

"He was a fucking child, and he went out like one, sobbing and pissing himself on the floor when I beat him to death."

"Oh that's right, you have no spiritual pressure," they said as if they forgot and even from where he crouched in the entry to the shower room, Ichigo felt the increase in their power. Grimmjow resisted as much as he could, every muscle tensing against it, but their power won out and it forced him to his knees.

"There, that's better." They didn't let up, keeping him there. "Now why don't I believe Kurosaki is dead?"

"'Casuse you don't want to admit you fucked up when you sent him here."

The blow they served him was brutal. A knee to his face broke his nose and sent him on his back, it could have killed him if they hadn't restrained themselves. He lay stunned and couldn't stop them when two of them grabbed his arms and hauled him up. The third, a woman, ripped his shirt off, displaying all those terrible scars to the crowd.

"Do they know how we tortured you Grimmjow?" she asked. "But it wasn't all physical, was it?" She turned to the crowd. "Pay attention, 'cause when we're finished with him, it's the rest of you we'll torture until we have Kurosaki.

She lay a hand over Grimmjow's chest. He was still recovering from the strike but met her eyes.

"Fuck you."

Ichigo wasn't sure what she did, but between her hand and his flesh was a glow of blue power. He went rigid in their hold but clenched his jaw shut, refusing to make a sound. Her eyes narrow and she lifted her other hand and placed it along his temple.

His scream filled the air, one long, terrible noise of utter pain.

And Ichigo knew no matter what they wanted from him, what they might do to him, he couldn't hide and let this happen. He caught Gleb in the crowd. The gambler shook his head as if to tell him no, stay back, but he ignored him.

"Stop."

The woman turned at his voice and the terrible scream ended. Grimmjow slumped in their hold, gasping for every breath.

"So, you are alive."

Ichigo said nothing, but there was no point staying back. The other prisoners gave him the room to move forward.

"What do you want with me?"

"What do you think? You will join us."

"Meaning you're losing," Grimmjow wheezed, barely able to lift his head. Ichigo saw the blood on his lips. "You must be desperate, to come here on the off chance he was still alive, take him back and try to use him against the soul reapers."

A brutal punch to his gut had him spew blood and cough harshly until he managed to get his breath back.

"Enough," Ichigo said when she raised her hand for a second strike. "But is he right? Is that why you want me?"

"Shut up and come here." She grabbed his wrist and spun him around and he felt the cold metal clamp around his skin, restraining him with his arms behind his back. "You belong to the Vandenreich now, and you will do everything we say." She let him go and he turned to face her, rigid with anger at her words—because he'd heard them before. He couldn't help himself, and he caught blue eyes before he spoke.

"No actually, I don't belong to anyone. Fuck you." It was less speed and skill than it was pure luck when he managed to actually headbutt her. She staggered back, holding her face, but when she dropped her hand their was fire in her eyes that Ichigo actually thought might burn him.

Then someone in the crowd gave a shout that was a cross between a cheer and roar and the whole crowd went wild, surging forward, screaming curses at the Vandenreich, striking out at the three.

Ichigo got jostled and stumbled around the pit in the heaving bodies. He lost sight of Grimmjow, the Vandenreich, everyone. But the moment of unity, of rebellion, ended abruptly with a single burst of power that flattened everyone in the room.

Ichigo thought it came from the Vandenreich. Then he realized it was the gateway opening for a second time.

"Please..." he begged as he sat in the mess of sprawling forms and saw the cracking energy surrounding the newly forming gate.

"Get Kurosaki!" the woman yelled, and the men dropped Grimmjow to hurry his way. He didn't struggled as he was hauled up, his entire focus was on that forming door, and his heart and mind and very soul begging the universe for this one gift after all his suffering.

And when he saw the black robes, the drawn swords, he whispered a thank you, because he knew he was going to be saved.

Three captains stood at the fore of the group who came through. Ichigo knew at once they must have been racing the Vandenriech to get here because they showed no surprise at seeing the three.

"Let him go." Ichigo could barely breathe at the sight of the snowy headed captain, those sea green eyes fixed in fury on the Vandenreich restraining him.

Toshiro Hitsugary drew his sword, his lieutenant behind him, and on his left and right Kenpachi Zaraki and Mayuri Kurotsuchi with members of their own squads—squads ten, eleven and twelve had come for him.

The woman stood before them, drawing a short blade from her belt.

"Come on honey, this fight is over and you know it," Zaraki laughed.

"I know," she spoke dangerously. "But if we can't have him, you can't either."

"NO!" Ichigo heard Rangiku's cry, but it took his mind a second to catch up with her reaction, to feel the heat of pain in his stomach and chill of rapid blood loss.

"Rangiku!" Toshiro ordered before jumping on the woman, but the battle was lost to Ichigo as he fell from the grasp of the Vandenreich onto the filthy prison floor, and his eyes landed on the entrance to the place where he'd nearly lost everything. He felt the grit of the pit floor where countless had been raped, beaten and slaughtered and knew he would just be one more to add to that count, of pathetic souls who'd lost their lives in this godforsaken place.

"Ichigo hang on." Slender fingers gripped him, pulled him from the dirt and held him close against her chest. His fading vision landed on her face as he head rolled back and he no longer saw Rangiku Matusmoto.

"Mom..." he whispered as a tear rolled out his eye, "I'm sorry..."

"Ichigo no!"

"Ranigku!" Toshiro fell at her side, the battle already over. "We have to get him back now, come on."

She lifted up his slender form, light from the weight he'd lost living on nothing but gruel, and followed her captain through the gateway he formed.

"Shit, will he make it?" Zaraki asked his colleague when he watched the members of the Tenth go through.

"We'll see." But Kurotsuchi's attention turned to the floor where someone was struggling to rise.

"Isn't that an espada?" Kenpachi asked.

"It is." Kurotsuchi smiled.

Grimmjow raised his head to see those above him.

"What the fuck are you looking at?"

Kurotsuchi's eyes wandered over the scars on Grimmjow's body. "By the looks of it, someone who has spent considerable time with the Vandenreich—someone who might have some valuable information for us."

Grimmjow narrowed his eyes. "Fuck you."

"Hmm, needs to learn some manners though." He nodded to one of his subordinates. Grimmjow was seized. "You'll be coming with us, Espada number six."

* * *

**_As always, thanks for the reviews!_**

**_Riza_**


	8. Chapter 8

Ichigo woke up. He didn't really think that was going to happen when he lost consciousness to the vision of his mother's face, but here he was, opening his eyes to the white washed walls and ceiling of the Fourth Division.

"Ichigo!" He heard the young, elated voice and saw Hanatoro's face as it broke into a wide smile. "You're awake! How do you feel? Let me get Captain Unohana." He was out of the room before Ichigo could even speak.

He waited alone, sound of beeping monitors kept the silence at bay. He peeled back the sheets enough to see the white bandages over his torso. He could feel tenderness but not the sharp, intense pain he remembered back in the prison. He let his head fall back against the thick pillow, and just bask in the reality that he was out of that Hell hole, that he was back among friends and being taken care of. He shut his eyes, memories still fresh, emotions running high.

"Ah, Ichigo, are you okay?" Hanataro ran to his side when he saw his eyes closed again but Ichigo put his mind at rest.

"I'm fine." He tried to sit but Captain Unohana put a hand on his shoulder.

"Just take it slow, your wound was severe."

He did as she said, too happy to be back to start defying rules just yet. She smiled on him as if she knew his thoughts.

"I am very glad to have you back with us, Ichigo Kurosaki."

"I'm very glad you came back for me. I honestly thought the Vandenreich had won when they put me in there."

"No, Ichigo, you wounded several high ranking soldiers that day, if you recall, and that has given us enough advantage to turn the tide, though I must admit it took some time, and when we found out where they had put you, we did everything we could to get to you first. Unfortunately, we were almost too late."

"So we're winning?"

"We're holding our own," she said, "but their attempt to get you tells us they are getting desperate for a way to push back. I won't give you false hope, but I think we have a chance of ending this soon."

"That's a relief," he sighed. "Captain...I've been gone for a long time."

"You're worried about your friends."

He nodded.

"I wish I could say Orihime has improved, but I'm afraid she remains in a coma. Your other friends are quite well, however, and they wish to see you."

He couldn't help but be bothered that Orihime was unchanging, but he did want to see his other friends.

"Just let me check you over and I'll tell them you're up for visitors."

"Okay."

She finished her exam, helped him sit and let them come. Rukia barely kept herself from crying. It turned out most had thought him dead until they'd caught wind of where the Vandenreich had been stashing prisoners and their plans to retrieve one. Renji gave him a clap on his shoulder, Uryu reluctantly showed a smile at seeing him and Chad squeezed his shoulder and promised he'd been keeping watch over his family.

When they left, Ichigo found himself very tired and starting to drift. Unohana had informed him he'd been asleep for seven days, but he felt like he hadn't slept for centuries so it didn't take long until he drifted again.

But while he was lingering in the realm between thought and dreams, he saw a pale face and blue eyes, and wondered what had happened to the sixth espada.

* * *

A wet cough echoed off bare walls in the depths of the twelfth division laboratory. Chains clinked as Grimmjow drew his hands up to his mouth as the bout of coughing didn't end until he was gasping painfully for every breath. He lowered his shackled hands, now coated in a spray of fresh blood. He let his head fall back against the wall and shut his eyes.

"Don't get too comfortable." He stiffened at the voice beyond the bars of his cell. "I'm ready to continue interrogations."

"Fuck you."

"Still with that filthy mouth," Kurostuchi tisked. "Fortunately it's not your mouth I need."

At this Grimmjow reacted, standing up as the bars to his cell were opened.

"It's your own fault for not cooperating," Kurotsuchi scolded. "Reading your memories is my only way of learning about their homeworld."

"I'm not letting you put me back in that fucking machine," Grimmjow growled, moving away from Kurotsuchi until his back was flush against the wall.

"You have no choice, espada." Kurotsuchi grabbed the chain between his wrists. "While your powers are still sealed, you're as helpless as you were in Purgatory."

He drug him from the cell.

Grimmjow had _not_ been helpless in Purgatory. No, in the prison world, everyone had been in the same boat, and though it had taken some adjusting, Grimmjow had become the most powerful person there. But this—caged and cuffed with a spiritual seal burned into the back of his neck—this was the first time in his whole life the sixth had felt truly helpless. And no matter how much he struggled when subordinates took over and wrestled him into a metal chair, there was no way out of this for him. Once he was safely secured, Kurtosuchi brought the machine over to him. It wasn't very big, but Grimmjow knew what it would do to him.

"What the hell do you really think you're going to get from these memories?" Grimmjow spat as the scientist aligned electrodes along his forehead and then adjusted a circlet around his temples.

"Anything—anything at all to help us crush the Vandenreich—and after examining you, I would have thought you'd be a willing participant."

"There ain't nothing to tell. I saw shit when I was there."

"Fine, then let me confirm that."

He backed away and put a hand on a small control panel. Grimmjow watched every movement of his fingers. He flicked a switch, turned a dial and Grimmjow felt the sickening pull of time and memories, and for him, it was all so real, the pain, the smell, the sight and sounds and he was forced to relive the worst moments of his existence.

* * *

"Ichigo, it's time to have a discussion about your time in Purgatory."

"I told Head Captain Kyoraku everything that was important."

"Not everything important has to do with the war." Captian Unohana took a seat next to his bed where he was propped up on pillows. "Ichigo, tell me about the six shaped scar on your back."

"Oh, that."

"Yes, _that,_ Ichigo. You said Grimmjow Jaggerjaques was there. He was the sixth esapda, did he do that to you?"

"Maybe." Ichigo did not feel like explaining just how he had survived his time there. The dynamic between him and Grimmjow was something he couldn't put into words. "Is he still there?"

"He's where he belongs Ichigo, especially if he did that to you."

"He...did it to make a point."

"Maybe it would be better if you started from the beginning."

"I know you're trying to help me, but I don't want to discuss all that."

"Ichigo, you're shaken, I can see it in your eyes and in your spiritual pressure." He averted his eyes, she reached out and placed a hand on his arm. "Would you be more comfortable, talking to someone else about it? A friend perhaps?"

He shook his head. "If I have to talk about it, it will be with you, but could we do it later ? I just..." he shook his head, not finding his words. "I think it might be easier when I'm feeling better," he concluded, knowing it was a lie, it would never be easy to explain the life he'd been living for over three months. But she accepted this and left him to rest.

It had been six days since he'd awoken, nearly two weeks since his rescue and he was starting to get antsy and wanted out of his bed. He got his wish the following day when Unohana gave him leave for a few hours and Rukia happily escorted him around the Seireitei. He asked to go to the Tenth so he could thank Toshiro and Rangiku for the rescue.

The captain wasn't there, he'd be assigned to take a shift watching the World of the Living for any signs of danger from the Vadenreich. It made Ichigo feel better to know Soul Society was maintaining a strong presence in his home town. Rangiku gave him a hug that made his stitches hurt but he hugged her back and listened to the story of just how the three captains had chased after the enemy and fought to get to Ichigo on time.

When his time was up, Ichigo was actually ready to return to his bed. His spiritual pressure had helped him get past the worst of his wounds but he had still come close to death and his body just needed some time to recover.

He stopped by another room for just a moment before returning to his own. Orihime was as peaceful and perfect as ever, skin porcelain white in its pallor, eyes fluttering under the lids in a never ending dream. He brushed his fingers over his cheek and wished for all the word those eyes would flutter open and she would smile back up at him.

"I wish I could save you," he whispered down to her. "I'm sorry, Orihime. I should have protected you." He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her forehead before withdrawing and returning to his room.

* * *

"Grimmjow you have a visitor."

Kurotsichu shouted into the cell by way of telling the espada to get up. He was slumped against the back wall of the cell, but he didn't move at the call.

"Grimmjow!"

When he still got no response, Kurotsuchi sighed long and opened the cell door.

"Espada, wake up." He bent down and shook one shoulder.

Grimmjow snapped too violently, grabbing hold of the front of Kurotsuchi's robes, chest heaving like he'd been running instead of sleeping. He looked around the room in confusion.

"Is something wrong with him?" The head captain stepped in after Mayuri.

"It's the machine."

"Are you damaging his brain?"

"No, it's just dredged up unfavourable memories, hasn't it Grimmjow?" He was still waiting for the espada to snap out of it. "He gets confused some times after he falls sleep, but I assure you the process is completely humane."

Blue eyes settled on him and he slowly let go of the twelfth captain.

"Humane? You fucking son of a bitch." He tried to shove the captain back but he really didn't have the strength.

"Glad to see you're back with us." Kurotsuchi stood and pulled him up by his chains. "You have a visitor."

Grimmjow narrowed his eyes and looked past the monochrome faced captain.

"Who's he?"

"The Head Captain."

"I thought the Head Captain was an old man."

"He was," Shunsui answered. "The Vandenreich King killed him."

"Good."

Grimmjow waited for the strike but neither captain made a move to hurt him. Shunsui just straightened and looked him in the eyes. "I understand you have no love of soul reapers, arrancar, but I advise you not to disrespect the departed."

Grimmjow said nothing.

"Why don't we have a discussion over tea."

Grimmjow sat in defiant silence at the table Nemu set up for them, never touching the steaming cup set before his shackled hands. Kurotsuchi went over reports and told of his progress sifting through Grimmjow's memories. When he held out a tablet to the Head Captain and Grimmjow spotted the video file on it, he reacted.

"What the fuck is that?" He recognized the image.

"What do you think, Grimmjow?" Kurotsuchi answered. "It's the memories I've been collecting."

Grimimjow made a grab for the tablet but Kurotsuchi shoved him back into his seat.

"That's fucking personal shit!" Grimmjow strained to get up again, the captain nodded to his lieutenant and she quickly secured Grimmjow's shackles to his chair.

"You bitch!" he shot at her, still trying to get up. "And you bastard, you have no right to go handing around my fucking memories!"

Shunsui set the tablet down without playing the file. "He's not wrong. Perhaps you can tell me what you've found."

"Nothing," Grimmjow answered for him. "There ain't nothing to find and he knows it but he just keep going."

"Not exactly," Kurotsuchi corrected. "Though I saw no significant breakthrough, observing the instruments they used on Grimmjow has taught me some about their level of technology. Mostly equipment in the background shows their electrical system, a voltage output that suggests they are supporting a large city of hundreds if not thousands of people."

"Thousands? So there are civilians in their world, possibly a whole society?"

"We can't know for sure, but it's possible."

They turned their attention back to Grimmjow.

"I didn't see a city, all I saw was that fucking room," he answered.

"I have to know," Shunsui said almost apologetically. "If we were to use certain measures against them-"

"Like blow up their who fucking world? Who cares if some bystanders have to go with them?"

"I disagree." He turned back to Kurotsuchi. "Do only what's necessary, but if there is a chance Grimmjow saw a hint of what their homeworld is really like, I have to know."

"I didn't," Grimmjow said again, with slightly less hostility.

"If that's true, then I do apologize, Grimmjow." He stood. "Thank you for the tea."

Grimmjow watched him go, glaring at his back the whole time until he was out of sight.

Kurotsuchi turned back to him, "Grimmjow-"

"FUCK YOU!" Grimmjow smashed his hand through the tea cup sending it shattering over the ground and clutched his head between chained hands. He sat motionless, captain and lieutenant caught off guard by the outburst.

After a moment, Kurotsuchi unhooked his chains from the chair. Grimmjow slid his hands down from his face but didn't move.

"Come on, espada."

"No. I'm not letting you mind fuck me anymore. I won't go back in that room."

"You know you don't have a choice."

Grimmjow just sank forward further, his forehead resting on the edge of the table.

"Is it the memories themselves that bother you, or the fact that other people are seeing them?"

He got no answer. Then, "Is Kurosaki still alive?"

"Yes, why?"

He finally lifted his head, renewed fury in his eyes.

"I'm gonna fucking kill him."

* * *

_**Dah, dah duh...**_

_**thanks for the reviews!**_

_**Riza**_


	9. Chapter 9

"There you are." Renji found Ichigo just outside the Fourth division, sitting on a stone bench in a the small flower garden. "You still not released yet?" Ichigo shook his head, the frustration in him clear. He looked healthy, his skin not so pale, his face fuller and no wounds visible.

Renji sat next to him "Is it your stomach?"

"No, my spiritual pressure's still not fully back."

"But you have Zangetsu?"

"Yeah." The other half of Ichigo's soul had been sealed inside him when he'd crossed to Purgatory, and even after his return it had taken several days for him to reappear. "But she thinks in another week I'll be back to normal."

"Okay, but if your wounds are healed, low spiritual pressure is no reason to keep you here."

Ichigo cast his eyes to the side. Renji understood and cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Sorry."

"It's fine."

Renji held the silence before his curiosity got the best of him.

"So...what was it like?" He couldn't help himself but then he immediately tried to take back his words. "Sorry you don't have to say."

"It was a prison," Ichigo answered. "Really, it could have been way worse. It's ridiculous really, that Unohana's kept me this long. But if I want them to let me fight, I have to do what they say."

"So you want to do things right this time, then? Not go all half cocked off on your own?"

"I'll try."

"Good, it's for the best."

"Yeah."

"Listen, I bet I could talk to Unohana for you."

"Don't, it's fine, another week tops and I'll be on the battle field."

"Not until we spar at least, you might be rusty," Renji teased but stood up. "Speaking of, I've got newbies to train." He tried to look annoyed but the grim fact was he had newbies to train because there had been so many deaths within the squad. Ichigo waved him out. Shortly after, he heard her soft voice.

"Ichigo, are you ready?"

"Yes." He rose and followed Unohana to her office. Reliving what happened wasn't easy, but he had no idea what the sixth espada was suffering across the Seireitei at the moment.

* * *

"What's happened? Sir, what's wrong?" Nemu scanned the readings and checked the cathodes but everything seemed in place. Grimmjow however, was reeling in clear agony—different from the discomfort the memories brought and more present and physical. Kurotsuchi's eyes were fixed to the screen, many images appearing before his eyes, jumping from time and place, showing glimpses of an orange haired boy on a prison floor, then the face of Aizen, then his Vandenreich torturers again. It all became a jumbled blur, but Kurotsuchi didn't stop recording in case he could later separate and decipher the images. But the machine had to be shut off. It was not malfunctioning—but it appeared Grimmjow's memories were.

"Perhaps we pushed him too far," Kurotsuchi muttered when he turned the dial back to zero. But Grimmjow hardly calmed for an instant before he went rigid again.

"He's having a seizure!" Nemu announced, moving to release him from the chair. Kurotsuchi watched on as she lowered him to the floor to let the fit pass, but when it didn't immediately, he knew he'd gotten all he could from the sixth espada for the time being.

"Call the Fourth Division."

* * *

Unohana was called from her office in an emergency half way through their session. Ichigo followed her out even though she told him to stay there. He stopped a few doors down, leaning into the quiet private room where Orihime slept in order to get out of the way of rushing squad members.

"Hanataro." He caught the attention of the young squad member on his way by. "Who is it? Were they injured by the Vandenreich?"

"Uh...he uh..."

"What? Who is it?" Ichigo felt a flutter of fear in his chest. Renji had said he was going training, it couldn't be him, but Chad and Uryu had gone with the tenth to the world of the living, could something have happened to one of them?

"I can't say."

"Hanataro!"

"I'm sorry, Ichigo." He hurried down the hall and banged through the doors to another room. Ichigo glanced back at Orihime one last time before hurrying after him.

By the time he got there, the emergency seemed to have passed—that or their patient had died—because no one was running around frantically anymore. Ichigo had gone as far as the double doors but didn't push inside—whoever it was, had the right to their privacy after all. He stepped back and waited in the hall to catch some of the conversation of those departing.

"I didn't know the Twelfth had a prisoner."

"They always have some sick experiment going on, we just usually don't get any survivors." They shuddered and moved along. Now Ichigo was completely piqued. Hanataro emerged next, spotted him and tried to retreat back inside but he was caught by a strong hand.

"Tell me or I'm going in to see for myself."

Hanataro glanced furtively between him and the doors.

"Uh..."

"Fine I'm going."

"No don't!" Hanataro caught his sleeve. "It's...the patient is Grimmjow Jaggerjaques."

* * *

"Easy." Grimmjow fell flat again with only the tips of her fingers against his chest. He'd woken with a start, sitting bolt upright only for her to pin him flat with the thinnest blanket of spiritual pressure. "I'll give you a moment to collect your thoughts."

By that, she meant she'd keep him restrained until he was calm. Grimmjow's blue eyes narrowed to slits but then they took to roaming around his new surroundings.

"The Fourth division," he concluded. "You're the captain of the healers, Retsu Unohana."

"Aizen taught you well."

He gave no comment.

"Are you recovered?" She meant was he going to attack her if she let him up.

"I'm fine," he responded shortly.

"I hope so." The pressure lifted, he grabbed the metal bar on the side of his bed and pulled himself up. His head swam and pounded all at once and for the first few moments he thought he was going to hurl. He gave it a moment before attempting to lift his head again and when he did, she was right there. She caught his chin and held his face steady despite his attempt to pull back from her. White light flashed in his eyes from her flashlight and he jolted as if she'd struck him.

"Hmmm. Photosensitive and hyper-dilation..." She withdrew as if this concluded something for her.

"Don't tell me Kurotsuchi fucked up my brain with that damn machine."

"Unfortunately, I know little of the machine, but it was not his device that caused you to seize."

"Oh great, so it's something else," he scoffed.

"Lesions on the brain, from what the Vandenreich did," she explained. "Combined with mental and physical exhaustion."

He quietly processed this.

"You might like to know he will not be able to resume his efforts to scan your memories for quite some time."

Grimmjow tried not to react but she could see it in his body and hear it in his voice. "Really?"

"The risk is too high you could have another seizure, cause some serious damage."

"And lose any potential information," Grimmjow concluded.

"That is the unfortunate lens through which your case must be examined."

"Like you give a shit any more than the rest of them," he growled and threw back the sheets to stand. She let him, because she knew he would topple and she knew nothing she said would stop him. The fall brought on a fit of coughing that ended in a red spray on the floor.

"You'll feel weak for a little while after the seizure." She waited to see if he could pick himself up. It took him some doing, but he managed to grab the railing and haul himself back to his feet. He sat back on the bed, trying to catch his breath that was still thick with fluid in his lungs.

"I am treating your lungs with spiritual pressure, but if that does not take effect soon, we may need to operate."

He said nothing, still recovering from hitting the floor and perhaps realizing just how weak he was. There was anger mixed into the pain on his features.

"Your door will be sealed. Other members of the squad will continue to check in on you."

She left him still sitting in silent contemplation of his situation and returned to her office. Ichigo was waiting for her.

"What the Hell is going on?"

She ignored his hostility and took a seat at her desk. Ichigo understood—he'd get no answers until he addressed her more politely but he couldn't help that he felt a frantic energy building in his chest. He plunked down in the chair before her desk and dropped his head into his hands.

"How is he here?"

"Captains Zaraki and Kurotsuchi found him after Captain Hitsugaya brought you through."

"And where has he been since then?"

"The Twelfth division." At this, Ichigo drew up his head. "Why?"

"So Captain Kurotsuchi could get necessary answers from him."

_"__Torture?"_ Ichigo stood, "They've been torturing him?"

But she shook her head. "The Captain has a device that enables him to see into Grimmjow's mind."

This didn't seem to relax Ichigo at all. He pulled his arms up around his body and paced away from her to the window, eyes fixing on a point far beyond the Seireitei.

"Ichigo, from what you've told me so far, I am starting to see that you and Grimmjow developed a sort of co-dependence, that he became less abusive as time went on."

Ichigo didn't say anything. He hadn't wanted to delve into any of that but she'd made him.

"But what I'm seeing now tells me there is something more—something maybe you're afraid Captain Kurotsuchi will see."

Ichigo shut his eyes and bowed his head. He heard her push her chair back and come over to him.

"I think it's time you get this off your chest."

* * *

Grimmjow continued to sit on the bed for three or four minutes—it took him that long to get his breath back completely. Then he slid from the sheets again, this time carefully. He took his time and let he feet slowly take his weight. When his knees held, he moved away from the bed to the door.

Fuck her and he condescending tones. He was getting out of here, and then he was going to murder the boy who'd begged him for help only to turn around and let his soul reaper friends do this to him for days.

He didn't have to wait long for his chance. He expected more of a fight, but he successfully caught the young soul reaper off guard. The poor bastard was half way in the room before he realized Grimmjow had been waiting behind the door. Then it only took one quick jab, even without his spiritual pressure, and the young healer collapsed on the floor.

He moved as quickly as he could, but in his current state it was barely enough to keep ahead of footsteps or behind cover. He had to turn sharply down a hallway to avoid being seen but found himself near an operating room. When he saw no one was inside, he took this chance to grab a weapon, a jagged blade probably for cutting bone. It was better than any shank he'd ever made in prison.

He took a breather here, feeling the liquid in his lungs, tasting the the now familiar tang at the back of his throat. Then he slipped out the double doors again and down the hall to where he hoped to find an exit.

He found her office instead. The door was half open, she was talking to someone. He wouldn't be able to get past without being seen, which was a shame as directly across from it was a door to the outside. He made to turn back but the second voice he heard stopped him. His hand clenched tighter over the handle of his weapon, rage building inside him—until he heard what was being said.

"I know he did alot of shit to me, Unohana, but that day—it was the single worst moment of my life. I never..." he took a shaking breath, voice unsteady even when he continued. "I didn't want to tell you, I didn't want anyone to know."

"Ichigo if they-"

"They didn't," he cut her off quickly. "But only because he showed up. He saved me."

"He wanted to use you for his escape."

"You don't understand, you weren't there—the look in his eyes when he killed them. The way he...he was quiet after, if he really was evil he wouldn't have acted the way he did, when he took me back. And then soon after the Vandenreich came."

She held the silence while he collected his thoughts.

"I knew he was waiting for that moment, for them to come and take me so that he could slip through the portal at the last minute. I knew that everything he'd done to protect me was for that moment. But I also knew that when he saved me in the shower room, it wasn't because of any of that. So I asked him. I just asked him not to hand me over."

"And?"

"And he let them torture him for my whereabouts and didn't give me up. I couldn't watch that, so I gave myself up and then you guys came through."

"And you were stabbed."

"Yes. And I thought he was still back there all this time. And even that was eating me up, like I'd betrayed him or something—I don't know, it's so messed up—I was so messed up in that place. I don't know how I should feel about what he did to me, or how he saved me, but I do I know how I feel about you all lying to me about where he was."

"You were not lied to, Ichigo."

"No one told me he was here! And now I find out Kurotsuchi's been doing who knows what to him-"

Grimmjow stepped away from the door, hand suddenly slack on the weapon he'd meant to kill the teen with. His chest felt tight, his face hot, he knew he was only getting sicker and there was no point waiting around. So the kid didn't fuck him over afterall. Why should he care anyway? What mattered was getting the hell out of here. But only three steps down he staggered and had to grab the wall for support.

"Hey!"

"Shit." He'd been spotted by someone far down the hall. He turned back toward the office but they'd heard and Unohana and Ichigo stepped out. The teen's face blanched, realizing he must have been overheard. Grimmjow met his eyes for one, brief second before breaking for the exit.

Ichigo should have stopped him, he knew, but in the moment, he froze, and just watched him race out the door. When he finally did react and start moving, he heard Grimmjow cry out from the other side of the door. He expected to see another soul reaper had detained him, but Grimmjow was on his own in the garden, reeling back as if he'd been struck in the face. He clutched his eyes with his hands, dropping his weapon in the grass.

"Grimmjow what's happening?"

"What the fuck did you do to me?" The scream came from behind his hands and was directed at Unohana.

"Nothing Grimmjow, please come back inside."

"I can't fucking see!" Beyond the anger Ichigo could hear the edge of pain. He could also see his unsteadiness—his body was giving into all it had been through even if his spirit was still up for the fight.

"Grimmjow-"

"Fuck you!" He tried to straighten and lower his hands but was instantly struck by whatever was afflicting him. He cursed and staggered, Ichigo caught one arm, Unohana the other and before the espada could protest further they had him back in the doors. Several members of the squad were just arriving on the scene with their swords drawn. Unohana raised a hand to tell them to wait and let Grimmjow go. He shirked out of their grasp and half fell against the wall, knees on the ground, forehead against the wall and breaths rapid and shallow.

He slowly brought his hand down and was able to see again. He took in the soul reapers who flanked him from all sides and knew his defeat. He scowled at them but let himself slide back until he was sitting against the wall and he dropped his head against one knee.

"Grimmjow those lesions are affecting your ability to focus light. You haven't noticed before, because it's been almost two years since you've seen the sun, hasn't it?"

He said nothing to her explanation, he was spent, defeated, humiliated. He didn't speak or move, he just drew his other knee up, shutting out the world around him. From this position, Ichigo could see the marking on the back of his neck.

"What is that?"

"It seals his powers."

"Even though we're out of Purgatory?" Ichigo understood how crushing it must feel for Grimmjow to be among those with power, including himself. He took a step backward at the thought, but then he noticed all the other soul reapers around them.

"Can you give us some space?" he called to them. They looked to their captain, she nodded and those who had gathered dispersed. He moved back toward the espada, crouching to his level.

"I don't need your fucking pity." Grimmjow growled out before Ichigo could even speak.

"I don't pity you, Grimmjow, I owe you."

He held his hand to help the other up. Grimmjow raised his head and looked at it before his scowl deepened and he swatted it away. In the same motion he brought up his other hand and grabbed Ichigo by the front of his robes.

"You don't owe me shit. I didn't do anything for you. Everything I did was for me, to get out of that shit hole. Don't think I wouldn't kill you now if I could."

He held the glare before the rattle in his chest became another coughing fit. He let Ichigo go so he could cover his mouth and just try to breathe. It was a bad one and Unohana swept down when she saw he was barely getting any air. The espada made a weak attempt to push her back but when she let out the glow of power and he found air again he stilled, though he was panting. Ichigo wasn't sure if he would have passed out anyway, or if Unohana pushed him into sleep with her power, but after one last hateful look at him, he slumped and was still.

* * *

**_Thanks so much for the reviews! I am loving this story and playing around with the emotions of both our boys. I expect there will be some more anger toward them both in the future as it's going to take them a while to figure out how they feel about one another and what the right choices to make are. For Ichigo I see him struggling to cope with what Grimmjow did to him initially, and reconcile that with the man who saved him. For Grimmjow I see him too locked into his anger to ask Ichigo for the help. Anyway, feel free to love and hate them both and continue to share your thoughts! It's going to be a bumpy ride and I hope you stick around for the rest!_**

**_Thanks!  
Riza_**


	10. Chapter 10

Grimmjow came too cursing, though the words were not for his current captors and it took a long while for his eyes to refocus and his memories to sort themselves out. Unohana had explained to Ichigo what Captain Kurotsuchi had been doing and how it had now brought those memories back to the surface and sharp clarity. Still, the look of utter terror and pain that passed through blue eyes before the espada could bury it down again was nothing short of disturbing.

Eventually he turned his eyes to the teen, then he looked down to his wrist now cuffed to the bed.

"You shouldn't have run away."

"Fuck you."

"Grimmjow-"

"What the Hell are you even doing here?"

Ichigo heaved a long sigh. "I don't even know. I guess I just...was wondering how you were doing," he ended lamely.

"Just great," the espada growled. "This is exactly what I had in mind when I planned my escaped from Purgatory."

"Look, I'm sorry about what they did to you. Unohana said she's going to help whatever's wrong with your head." He got no response from the espada so he continued. "I'm leaving, to Hueco Mundo."

At this, the espada did turn.

"That's where the main forces for the Vandenreich are stationed. I'm going with the sixth division in their next assault. I just thought I should tell you."

"Why the Fuck would I care?"

"Because I won't be here, and I kind of thought after everything-"

"I don't give shit kid, except that it's hilarious you think you can go to war."

"I've been before."

"And look how that turned out." Ichigo quieted. "I'm not a killer like you, Grimmjow." "'Cause you're pathetic. You could have learned something in Purgatory, kid, but instead it just made you even weaker." Ichigo narrowed his eyes but didn't stoop to Grimmjow's level. Instead he headed for the door with one last parting thought.

"I did learn something in Purgatory, Grimmjow, but so did you. That's why I came to say goodbye."

Grimmjow watched him go from where he was restrained, eyes narrowed in dark anger, but no words of retort coming to mind.

* * *

**Three weeks later.**

"Well, it's not as bad as Purgatory."

"In Purgatory I had the keys." Grimmjow shot back from where he was slouched in the back of his cell below the Fourth Division. Ichigo hadn't even known there were cells here until Unohana directed him this way after his hand was stitched back together. Grimmjow noted the wound. "You back 'cause you got your ass kicked?"

"Pretty much," Ichigo admitted.

Grimmjow made a disinterested noise and turned back to the book he was reading. Ichigo knew he must be starved for information about the war—or just an actual conversation—but he would never admit to it. Ichigo gave a long sigh and looked over the cell's interior. It was much larger than their shared space in Purgatory, the bed was one from the medical ward above them rather than a hard cot. There was a chair, a table and a small shelf of books. Grimmjow was dressed just the same as Purgatory really, though cleaner, in white hospital clothing. From one hand an IV led to a bag on a pole above him.

"What's that for?"

Grimmjow didn't look up from his book when he spoke. "Antibiotics or something. Unohana had to cut me open to get at my lungs."

"It was that bad?"

He just shrugged.

"How's your head?" Another shrug. Ichigo sighed again.

"Well Unohana said your aren't photosensitive anymore so I can take you for a walk tomorrow."

At this, Grimmjow dropped his book in his lap and looked up at the teen with raw rage in his eyes.

"I'm. Not. A. Fucking. Dog!" Ichigo almost took a step backwards at the fury the struck him. He realized he could have rephrased his words.

"Grimmjow you know what I meant."

"Fuck you."

"No one else will take you, it's war time, no one has the time or cares, so if you want some fresh air, which you apparently haven't had since Hueco Mundo, then I'll come back tomorrow and we can go."

Ichigo flinched when the spine of the hardcover connected with the bars right at his eye level.

"Get the fuck out."

"Fine." Ichigo didn't bother arguing with the espada any further. But he did return the next day and came to wordlessly stand before the bars, the offer hanging unrepeated in the air. He could tell that a day later the espada had cooled considerably, but not enough that his pride would let him say yes, so Ichigo left after Grimmjow uttered his two favourite syllables.

On the third day, Ichigo returned to the Fourth in order to have his hand looked at again. Several bones had been broken, but the healers had poured extra strength into their healing to make sure he could return swiftly to the war front. Ichigo was anxious to return—everyone had had high hopes when he'd rejoined them, thinking the war might end quickly now, but Ichigo had yet to make any critical moves. He spent most of his time under Renji's watchful eye, following his lead, not trusting his own instincts after they'd led him to failure and capture last time.

Unohana said he would be ready to leave the next day, so he visited the cell one last time.

"I'm leaving tomorrow," he said simply.

"Good."

"You know I'm not doing this out of pity or anything. Remember, I said I owe you."

"And I said you don't, 'cause I've never done anything for you."

"Well I don't see it that way."

"Then you're an idiot."

"Do you want to get out of this cell for a while or not?"

"Not."

"Fine."

Ichigo left without another word. The parting didn't sit right with him, but there was nothing to be done about it.

He left the next day with Rukia's squad and they met up with the Sixth. Days and weeks became a blur—not of endless fighting, sometimes there was no one to find to fight—sometimes they were simply searching for soldiers and then the next thing reinforcements would arrive and they'd be back in the middle of chaos.

Everything came to a sudden stop, however, when he saw a fatal attack going straight for Rukia. He abandoned all strategic thinking and hurled himself in the way. He woke up in the Fourth division three days later, his lungs feeling like he'd inhaled twenty cigarettes at once and his back stiff and hot. He was told he'd been lucky not to lose all his hair and that they'd managed to get him past the worst of his burns on his shoulders while he was unconscious. He spent a stiff couple of days getting back on his feet in the medical ward before he was told it would be another week before he could return to Hueco Mundo, so he once again made his way down to the cells in the basement.

He wasn't sure how long it had been but he saw quite a change in Grimmjow. He looked healthy, for one thing—no more wheeze in his lungs or discolouration under what Ichigo could see of his eyes. On the downside, his room was now bare of anything but the bed and he lay there with chained hands draped over his eyes, every line of his body reading anger and frustration.

"Get the Fuck out!" he roared without lowering his hands.

"So I'm guessing you tried to escape or blew up at the guards." At his voice, Grimmjow did react. It was clear he'd mistaken Ichigo for one of the squad members who'd been watching over him. He didn't say anything, but he didn't have to, his surprise at seeing the teen was clear, and there was even possibly an edge of relief. He held the silence, dropping his hands onto his stomach with an audible clank but otherwise not moving from his bed.

"I'll let Unohana know you're up for some exercise."

Ichigo didn't wait for a response. He knew Grimmjow would never accept his help if he presented it as some sort of act of mercy, so Ichigo got the keys to the cell, despite her warnings that Grimmjow had become increasingly volatile the longer his captivity went on. He unlocked the door, then unlocked Grimmjow's cuffs without hesitation. It wasn't like he could get away from Ichigo no matter how fast or crafty. In fact, walking close to Ichigo was probably going to be taxing enough on him.

There was the slightest hesitation in Grimmjow when he came to the threshold of his cell, as if he was still considering the obstinate defiance he'd shown last time, but Ichigo guessed his utter boredom and desperation to see the sky again allowed him to follow Ichigo in silence out the cell and up the stairs. When they got outside he flinched. Ichigo waited, seeing it was not the pain from before, but most likely just the shock of the sunlight after nearly two years in underground cells. The Fourth division cells were not as dim as the lights of Purgatory but no manufactured light would ever be as powerful as that orb in the sky.

Still they didn't speak, and Grimmjow slowly lowered the hand he'd raised against the sun, though he still squinted the entire time. For a moment he just stood there, absorbing the sunlight, the light wind and fresh air. Ichigo couldn't imagine how it must feel to step outside for the first time in two years.

They walked. Ichigo led them on a meandering trail along the pathways of the Seireitei. The city was big enough that there would never be a danger of them running out of places to walk. Ichigo felt the stiffness in his shoulders, the skin still sensitive and the muscles sore. The walk was good for him as well, though the longer they walked the more Ichigo noticed small irregularities in Grimmjow's behaviour. His eyes shifted constantly, perhaps assessing dangers or making a mental note of pathways and buildings. Aizen must have gone over Soul Society with his soldiers, trained them to know its layout for an eventual attack, so Grimmjow was probably situating himself and figuring out his best escape route should an opportunity arise. On the other hand, as Ichigo watched him, he wondered if he was simply taking in every inch of the sunbathed landscape, not knowing when he might have another chance to see it again.

They didn't see many soul reapers out and about, and those that were on the paths were running to their destinations. It was wartime, and no one had time for leisurely strolls or to take prisoners on escorted walks. Ichigo's own grace period would be up soon—three more days, Unohana had said, before he'd be ready to return. He was eager to rejoin his friends, but part of him was anxious for a reprieve—war was not exactly what he'd signed up for when he'd taken on the mantle of soul reaper over two years ago. When he'd accepted Rukia's power that night, he'd done it save his family, and then he'd accepted the responsibility to help people, not to end up losing months of his life to a war, imprisonment and pain. He sighed long, forgetting he was not alone.

Finally he broke the silence that had lasted between them for over an hour.

"I guess you were probably right. I'm not really made for war."

For a moment, Grimmjow said nothing, they just continued walking until he spoke. "What's happening in Hueco Mundo?"

"They just keep sending reinforcements. Every time we think we've gained the upper hand, another assault team arrives."

"And are you leaving soldiers alive to return to the battle field?"

Ichigo looked away at the question. Grimmjow made a derisive noise.

"That's your problem right there."

"Killing isn't always the answer."

"They're the enemy."

"And so were the soul reapers for me, once. The people I now fight beside once fought me. If I'd killed them or they me, it would have been over, we wouldn't have been able to stand together against Aizen or anyone."

Grimmjow thought this over. "Why were the soul reapers your enemies? You're one of them."

It never occurred to Ichigo that Grimmjow only knew him as a soul reaper and wasn't aware of his exceptional circumstances. He gave a brief account of how he'd come to be a soul reaper. Grimmjow withheld comment but Ichigo could see he'd listened and was processing all of this.

"So," he said eventually, "the reason you don't kill your enemies is because you think there's a chance they will become your friends?" Ichigo could practically taste his condescension and mockery. "I thought you were just squeamish but this is a new level of pathetic."

Ichigo came to a stop.

Grimmjow did too. "You have to see how much of a child you are."

"If you kill someone, you take away their chance to redeem themselves."

"People don't change, kid, you just want them to. You want to think that everyone else is really like you—as naïve and stupid as you."

"People always change, Grimmjow, that's how they survive, how they grow."

"Give me a fucking break."

"Are you trying to say you haven't changed, Grimmjow? That what's happened to you over the past two years hasn't affected you?"

For a brief moment, Ichigo thought the espada would concede, but then a cruel smile took over his face. "You want me to be your friend too, Kurosaki? You think I'm gonna give up who I am and join you? You needed to believe that in Purgatory didn't you? You needed to cling to that desperate hope in order to survive."

"But you saved me."

"To save myself kid and nothing more."

"What about the Vandenreich?"

"I knew if I followed them back I'd just end up stuck in their homeworld. So I decided to hide you from them and wait for the soul reapers instead."

"Bullshit. I was there, I know why you did it."

"Why?" Grimmjow grabbed his uniform and dragged him closer and even though Ichigo was the one with the spiritual pressure Grimmjow was the one with the power as he held him within an inch of his face. "Because I secretly _care _about the pissant kid I vowed to kill? Because I pitied someone so pathetic he begged an enemy for help? No, Kurosaki, what I do, I do for me, and no one else." He let him go and turned away. "I'm ready to go back."

Ichigo stood there, arguments still racing through his mind, remembering those eyes in the shower room, those steady arms holding him up—he had to stop himself, the memories of that day still shook him and he didn't want Grimmjow to perceive his thoughts, so he straightened and just said, "fine," and took the espada back to his cell.

* * *

Ichigo almost didn't go back the next day, but then he realized that would mean he'd taken Grimmjow's words to heart or that he was stooping to the other's vengeful level. So he made himself go back down to the cell the following day, resolved to stay indifferent to the emotions of the caged espada.

He still didn't know how he felt about Grimmjow and his current condition. Instead of all those earlier encounters, now when he saw Grimmjow all he could see was Purgatory. He didn't particularly like being reminded of his time there or what happened to him, but he also couldn't ignore what Grimmjow had done for him, whatever the true motivation.

Grimmjow spewed a lot of bullshit, that was for sure. Ichigo was mostly certain he had been lying the other day to cover his pride—mostly. But then why should he care so much either way?

Today they didn't speak. Grimmjow knew that when Ichigo returned to war, he'd be stuck in his cell for endless days and nights so he seemed willing to swallow anger and pride and go with the teen, but he also wasn't willing to make any steps in starting a conversation. Ichigo had not slept well and his back was more sore than he'd anticipated so he didn't find the will or energy to try either. Perhaps it was best that way and they roamed the hills of the seireitei again, a slight rain sprinkling down, dark clouds hanging in the air. When their path led back to the cells after a good few miles, Ichigo saw the tension in Grimmjow, but he didn't say a thing. His pride must have been tearing him in two—half of it telling him to fight, the other half telling him it would only end up with him being forced into submission. So with heavy footsteps he descended back to his prison and willingly stepped inside.

The whole process left Ichigo with a hollow feeling inside. He ascended to the Fourth and looked in on Orihime for a while. Her pale features and rhythmic breathing aided by machines made his stomach knot more. He made her all the same promises he'd whispered a hundred times (I'll end this war before you wake up; I'll find something to heal you; I'll protect all our friends). Then he left for the sixth division, where he'd been allotted a room. The Fourth was too crowded these days for non-patients to be taking up a bed.

The bunks here were mostly empty. A few of the squad members were here, wounded or recovering, but the rest were all still on the war front. The rotations were long, and frankly, even when their time was up, no one seemed to want to return back to the quiet of soul society and just wait. Waiting was much worse than the constant vigilance and action of war—where you at least could imagine you were making headway in vanquishing the enemy. Maybe it was this edginess Grimmjow read in him the following day that prompted him to speak at the crest of one of the hills and took in the sweeping scape of endless third-world-like housing that comprised the rukon districts.

"You're getting to like it, aren't you?"

"What?"

"Fighting."

"What? No, why would I?"

"Cause you've got the taste for it now."

"I don't enjoy fighting for my life every second I'm in Hueco Mundo."

"Sure you don't," he said sarcastically, leaning over the edge of small brick wall that decorated the end of the pathway. He rested his forearms against the rough surface, taking in the expanse of buildings that went on as far as they could see. "And you probably think your soul reaper friends don't enjoy sitting above other people."

Ichigo almost jumped on the statement with a retort about Grimmjow being the last person who should have an opinion on the matter but then he realized the espada wasn't thinking about the well being of the masses—he was thinking about himself in his underground cell.

"Have they ever offered you a deal or anything?"

"Why would they?"

"Because you've got the strength of a captain."

"And I'd turn that strength on them, and you all know it."

"What's the point, Grimmjow? Why be this way?"

"What way? I've always been this way. I told you kid, people don't change."

Ichigo sighed and leaned on the wall as well. The sun was setting, he'd have to take Grimmjow back soon, and in the morning he'd be gone. Grimmjow knew this, and Ichigo could tell he was contemplating resisting tonight. He didn't relish that fight, humiliating Grimmjow and forcing him back in a cage. So he gave it some extra time, and they remained there in silence as darkness overtook the landscape.

"Did you know they think the Vandenreich have a city like this?"

The comment dropped unexpectedly from the espada. Ichigo shot him a look just as the last rays of the sun caught on sapphire orbs, turning them brilliant orange for just an instant.

"Who?"

"The Soul Reapers. That's what they were questioning me about."

"When you first arrived."

A nod.

"Why?"

"Because they want to destroy their homeworld. And they just wanted to know if they'd be blowing up any civilians when they did it."

Ichigo stood sharply.

"And?"

"And I don't know, but I am curious."

"About what?"

"What you'll do, when they finish their bomb, because you may not admit to it, but if they find some way to finish this war, you better believe they'll do it, civilians or not. But you—what will you do, Kurosaki? Even if they decide there are no civilians, they'll have prisoners, maybe even slaves—and of course you can't even stand to kill the enemy. So how would you feel about a mass genocide?"

Ichigo stood frozen for several long seconds, burned by the cruelty of the words, the darkness setting in on Grimmjow's features that had nothing to do with the shadows that grew under the rising stars.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Like I said, I was just curious to see your reaction."

With that he stood too, and returned to his cell without hesitation. Ichigo barely followed him enraged, at the espada and the secret, and only when the bars clanked shut and he walked away he realized what Grimmjow had done.

He knew he couldn't escape, he knew he'd be going back to that cage no matter what, but he still couldn't go without a fight, without revenge. And he'd just gotten it.

* * *

Dawn came after a sleepless night—and Ichigo needed his sleep as he was to return to war this morning. He wrestled out of tangled sheets, prepared himself and headed for the gate, but he couldn't leave without making one last stop to the Fourth division cells.

"I just need to know if you really were telling the truth."

He said through the bars to Grimmjow who was still waking up. He rose and came right over to the bars. He said nothing but met the teen's eyes, and Ichigo had no doubt he'd been telling the truth last night. He took a breath that shuddered when it came out. Grimmjow back off, he did too, eyes on the floor now.

"I'm going back now, to Hueco Mundo."

He didn't know what else to say, so he turned and left without a word. Grimmjow stood in the silence for only a few moments before he heard the clank of the door above and the footsteps he expected.

"Good morning, Grimmjow." Kurotsuchi greeted, carrying his memory machine with him. The espada said nothing from the back of his cell as the doors were opened and the Captain approached him. "I must say I am surprised you didn't tell him."

"Why would I?"

"Oh, you know as well as I do what kind of fuss Kurosaki would put up if he knew we were continuing." Grimmjow resisted the hands on him as much as he could, but he never won this fight, and like ever day, ended up flat on his bed, limbs strapped down while the circlet was placed over his temples.

"Like I'd ever ask that little shit for help."

"My that pride of yours is unrivalled, but then, it's worked to my advantage this time, hasn't it? Well, let's see, where did we leave off? I think I was learning about the experimental weapons Aizen described to you and the other espada..."

Grimmjow tuned out to his words. They would become meaningless in moments anyway, as would everything around him, and his eyes would stop seeing this world. Instead he'd be transported from memory to memory, through time and place, while the captain sifted and searched for anything of use, and only when he'd collected enough data to sift through while Grimmjow recovered, would he end in that most painful of places, ever searching for the hints to their world, but no longer in fear of civilian causalities.

They just wanted to know how big an explosion it would take to wipe out the entire Vandenreich Homeworld.

* * *

**_No action but lots of angst! Hope you don't mind! I am really grateful for the reviews I've been getting, I love to hear feedback, thanks so much!_**

**_Until next time!_**

**_Riza_**


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